
T.^.DENiSON 6c COWPAW CHICAGO 



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DENISON'S ACTING PLAYS 

Partial List of Successful and Popular Plays. Large Catalogue Free. 
Price 15c each. Postpaid, Unless Different Price is Given 



DRAMAS, COMEDIES, 
ENTERTAINMENTS, Etc. 

M. F. 

Aaron Boggs, Freshman, 3 

acts, lYi hrs (-5c) 8 8 

After the Game, 2 acts, 1J4 

hrs (-'5c) 1 9 

All a Mistake, 3 acts. J hrs. 

^25c) 4 4 

American Hustler, 4 acts, lYi 

hrs (2Sc) 7 4 

Arabian^ Nights, 3 acts. 2 hrs. 4 5 
As a Woman Thinketh. 3 acts, 

iy2 hrs (25c) 9 7 

At the End of the Rainbow, 3 

acts, 2Ji hrs (25c) 6 14 

Bank Cashier, 4 acts. 2 hrs. 

(25c) 8 4 

Black Heifer, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 

(25c) 9 3 

Brookdale Farm, 4 acts, 2J4 

hrs (25c) 7 3 

Brother Josiah, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 

(25c) 7 4 

Burns Rebellion, 1 hr....(25c) 8 5 
Busy Liar, 3 acts, 2 '4 hrs. 

(25c) 7 4 

College Town, 3 acts, 2^ . 

hrs i.(2Sc) 9 8 

Corner Drug Store, 1 hr. 

(2Sc) 17 14 

Danger Signal, 2 acts. 2 hrs.. 7 4 
]Jaughter of ' the Desert, 4 

acts, 2^i hrs (25c) 6 4 

Down in Dixie, 4 acts, l!'/! 

hrs (25c) 8 4 

Dream That Came True. 3 

acts, 2^ hrs (2Sc) 6 13 

Editor-m-Chiei, I hr (2Sc) 10 

Enchanted Wood. 1 '4 h.(35c).Optnl. 
Everyyouth, 3 acts, I Yi hrs. 

(25c) 7 6 

Face at the Window, 3 acts, 2 

hrs (25c) 4 4 

Fascinators, 40 min (25c) 13 

Fun on the Podunk Limited, 

1% hrs (2Sc) 9 14 

Heiress of Hoetown. 3 acts, 2 

hrs (25c) 8 4 

High School Freshman, 3 acts, 

2 hrs (25c) 12 

Honor of a' Cowbov, 4 acts, 2V4 

hrs '. (25c) 13 4 

Indian Davs, 1 hr (50c) 5 2 

In Plum Valley, 4 acts, Z'^i 

hrs (25c) 6 4 

Iron Hand, 4 acts, 2 hrs'. . (2Sc) 5 4 
Jayville Junction, l'/2 hrs.(25c)14 17 
Kingdom of Heart's Content, 3 

acts; 2 '4 hrs (25c) 6 12 

Lexington, 4 acts, 2;4 h. . (2Sc) 9 4 



Light Brigade, 40 min... .(25c) 10 
Little Buckshot, 3 acts, 2^4 hrs. 

(25c) 7 4 

Lodge of Kye Tyes, 1 hr.(25c)13 
Lonelyville Social Club, 3 acts, 

Wi hrs (25c) 10 

Man from Borneo, 3 acts, 2 

hrs. (25c) 5 2 

Man from Nevada, 4 acts, ly^ 

hrs (25c) 9 5 

Mirandy's Minstrels (25c) Optnl. 

New Woman. 3 acts, 1 hr.... 3 6 
Old Maid's Club, IK' hrs.(25c) 2 16 
Old Oaken Bucket, 4 acts, 2 

hrs ..(Zir\ 8 6 

Old School at Hick'ry Holler, 

I'i hrs (25c) 12 9 

On the Little Big Horn, 4 acts, 

21^ hrs. (25c) 10 1 

Out in the Streets, 3 acts, 1 hr. 6 4 
Prairie Rose, 4 acts, 2% hrs. 

(25c) 7 4 

Rustic Romeo, 2 acts, 254 

hrs (25c) 10 12 

School Ma'am, 4 acts, 1^ hrs. 6 5 
Scrap of Paper, 3 acts, 2 hrs.. 6 6 
Soldier of Fortune. 5 acts, 2V2 b- 8 3 
Southern Cinderella, 3 acts, 2 

hrs (25c) 7 

Third Degree, 40 min. . . . (25c) 12 
Those Dreadful Twins, 3 acts, 

■ 2 hrs (2Sc) 6 4 

Tony, The Convict, 5 acts, 254 

hrs ..(25c) 7 4 

Topp's Twins, 4 acts, 2 h.(2Sc) 6 4 
Town Marshal, 4 acts, 254 

hrs (25c) 6 3 

Trip to Storvland, 1 '4 hrs. (25c) 17 23 
Uncle Josh, 4 acts, 2\\ hrs.(2Sc).8 3 
Under Blue Skies, 4 acts, 2 

, hrs (25c) 7 10 

Under the Laurels, 5 acts, 2 hrs. 6 4 
When the Circus Came to 

Town. 3 acts. 254 hrs. (25c) 5 3 
Women Who Did, 1 hr...(2Sc) 17 
Yankee Detective, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 8 3 

FARCES, COMEDIETAS, Etc. 

April Fools. 30 rain 3 

Assessor, The, 10 min 3'f 2 

Baby Show at Pineville, 20 min. 19 

]5ad Job. 30 min : . . . 3 2 

Betsy Baker, 45 min.....;.-.. 2 2 

Billv's Chorus''Girl, 25 min... 2 3 

Billy's Mishap. 20 min 2 3 

Borrowed Luncheon, 20 min.. 5 

Borrowing Trouble. 20 min.... 3 5 

Box ami Cox, 35 min 2 1 

Case Against Casey, 40 min. ..23 
Convention of Papas, 25 min.. 7 
Country Justice. 1 5 min ...... 8 

Cow that Kicked Chicago, 20 m. 3 2 



CIVIL SERVICE 

AN AMERICAN DRAMA IN THREE ACTS 

A PLAY WITH A PUNCH 



BY 
WALTER BEN HARE 

AUTHOR OF 

Aaron Boggs, Frrshinan," "A College Toicii," "The Fascinators. 

"Laughing Ji'atcr," "Macbeth a la Mode," "Mrs. Tubbs of 

Shantyto7^.'n," "Parlor Matches/' "A Poor Married Man,'' 

"Rose o' My Heart," "A Rustic Romeo," "Savageland," 

"A Southern Cinderella," "Sezving for the 

Heathen," Etc., Etc. 




CHICAGO 

T. S. DENISON & COMPANY 

Publishers 



CIVIL SERVICE 



CHARACTERS. 

Old R. F. D., A Mystery (Character Lead) 

The Inspector, B. J. Cochran {Heavy) 

The Postmaster, J. L. Reynolds [Old Man) 

The Young Money Order Clerk, Steve Audaine. . 

..(Lead) 

The Mailing Clerk, Simpson Peavy (Character) 

The Country Boy, Goldie \\'ex (Comedian) 

7'iiE Postmaster's Daughter, Octavia (Ingenue) 

A Lady of Importance. Mrs. T. R., Jeffs. . . . (Character) 

A Hired Girl, Birdie Bivins (Character Soitbrette) 

A Collector, Miss Goldstein ( Utility) 

and 
The Plucky Little Stamp Clerk. Kate Kenyon. . . 

(Leading Lady) 

Note: — The characters of Qctavia and Birdie may be played by 
same actress, as may Miss Goldstei.v and Mrs. Jeffs, thus reducing 
the cast to 6 male and 3 female characters. 

Act I. The Work Room of a Postoffice. The Satur- 
day after Christmas. — The Thief. 

Act II. Same as Act I. A week later. — The Trial. 

Act III. Same as Acts I and II. The next morning. — 
The New Life. ,- 



Time — The Present. 



Place— .t? Small Cit\ in the Middle West. 



Time of Playing — About Two and One-Onarter Hours. 



Notice. — Production of this play is free to amateurs, but the sole 
professional rights are reserved by the author, who may be ad- 
dressed in care of the Publishers. 



COPYRIGHT, 1915, BY EBEN H. NORRIS. 

2 ■ 

nrT n 1915 

©CI.D 419.52 A-o/ 



V^S'SSlS CIVIL SERVICE. 3 

\^\5 STORY OF THE PLAY. 

A comedy drama of American life depicting" the joys and 
sorrows, the heartaches and strnggles and temptations of a 
small gronp of government employees working in a post- 
office in a small city in the middle west. There is the stern 
inspector, the officious postmaster, the busybody mail clerk, 
the ambitious young clerk who yields to temptation and 
robs the postoffice, the kind hearted sld man who carries 
tlie rural route, the raw recruit and the noble hearted, 
jjlucky little stamp clerk, who bravely stifles her own feel- 
ings and lives for the advancement of her friends. 

Steve Audaine, the hero of the play, has been living" be- 
yond his means and is deeply in debt, lie steals two fifty 
dollar bills from a letter, but soon repents his rash action. 
The postoffice inspector arrives hot on the trail of the thief. 
Just as Steve's guilt has been established "Old R. F. D.," 
a kind-hearted old man, the rural free delivery carrier, 
comes forward and assumes the guilt. Years before he 
has robbed the mails and was sentenced and served fifteen 
years in the penitentiary. When he was sent to prison he 
had a baby boy but when released was unable to find him. 
Fie now discovers that Steve is his son and resolves to keep 
him from following" in his father's footsteps. The father- 
love prompts the self-sacrifice and makes him happy in 
giving" his boy all he has in this world to offer — his liberty. 
But through the pluck and sagacity of Kate Kenyon, the 
little stamp clerk, neither Steve nor his father are required 
to suffer the penalty of Steve's rash action. All ends hap- 
pily and Steve and Kate and old R. F. D. (with his faith- 
ful old mare, Bess) go out on a homestead in IN'Iontana to 
begin a new life free from temptation and care and out 
of the bonds of Civil Service. 



CIVIL SERVICE. 



SYNOPSIS. 



Act I — The work room of the postoffice. Octavia's birth- 
day. Steve Aiidaine in debt. Old R. F. D. rides thirteen 
miles through the snow. "Old Bess ain't what you'd call 
a reindeer, but she's a good, faithful animile." Goldie VVex. 
the new substitute from the country. Steve in trouble with 
the collector. "You can't force me into the hands of 
the loan-sharks ; I'd rather lose my job." A lady of im- 
portance, Mrs. T. R. Jeffs. Steve yields to temptation. 
R. F. D. tells the dramatic story of his life in prison. The 
little stamp-clerk comes home. "My laddie, my laddie! 
My dream is over!" 

Act it. A half holiday. The postmaster's daughter 
announces her engagement. "I have risked my reputation 
to gratify h.er slightest desire." The letter for Ira Trout- 
man, Esq. A little homestead in Montana. "There never 
was a cloud yet too dark to have a silver lining." R. F. D., 
the comforter. Goldie's lady friend. Miss Birdie Bivins, 
who works out. The postoffice inspector. Goldie in the 
toils of the law. "You lie, Steve Audaine, you stole that 
hundred dollars I" The sacrifice of R. F. D. 

Act III. The next morning. Birdie and Goldie looking* 
for a license. "We don't want a dog license ; we want a 
wedding license." The inspector and the plucky little stamp 
clerk. Kate is suspected of robbing the mails. Steve finds 
his father. Kate appeals to Mrs. Jeffs. "Would you send 
an old soldier to prison for life?" Mrs. Jeffs sees her duty 
and does it. "The sun is shining on a new life, and we'll 
all be together, me and my boy and my little princess." 



CIVIL SERVlCh:. 



COSTUMES AND CHARACTERISTICS. 

R. F. D. — A simple, kind-hearted, lovable old man of 
about 67. Gray or white wig. eye-brows and whiskers. 
Old, soiled boots. Old, patched brown or gray trousers. 
Tattered coat and vest. Gaudy vv^oolen muffler. 1\nUered 
mittens. Old fur cap. Spectacles in pocket. 

The Inspector — A burly, thick-set man with a gruff 
voice, aged about 40. Neat winter suit, overcoat and hat. 
Speaks in commanding tone. Always smoking the stump 
of a cigar. The scene with, Kate in Act III must be played 
with quiet, but intense dramatic force. 

The Postmaster — Aged 50. Neat winter suit, overcoat 
and hat. 

Peavy — A little, prying, gossipy man of about 36. Ordi- 
nary winter clothes. Work apron when around office. 

Steve — A good-looking boy of about 20. W^ell dressed 
in winter clothes. This part needs careful rehearsing, espe- 
cialy in the strong emotional scenes of Acts II and III. 

GoLDiE — Red-headed, freckled, awkward countr)- boy 
of about 19. Old-fashioned comedy clothes suitable for 
winter. 

OcTAviA — Aged 19. Somewhat overdressed, furs. etc. 
Somewhat overbearing. Should be played by a l)eautiful 
girl with a distinct style. 

Birdie — A country soubrette. Winter clothes of comedy 
cut. Hair dressed extravagantly. Small muff", etc. PJay 
for low comedy effects. Make up freckled. 

Mrs. Jeffs — A lady of 45. Loud, commanding voice. 
She is used to bossing her own house and every other one. 
Comedy costumes suitable for winter. 

Kate — Dark working dress. Black apron and cuff's. 
Change for Act III to neat winter dress, coat and hat. 

Miss Goldstein — Winter dress, furs, jewelry, hat. Car- 
ries collectors bundle of statements. 



CIVIL SERVICE. 



Scene Plot. 



J. stool n 

Door to :;r'TrTZ~ 

Postmaster (jviairing TaCie 
Private Office 



Chairs 

D D 



D stool 



■"1. 

Door to 
Street 

.\ 
Door Serves 

sir n I l^s Stamp 
Desk \ 



STAGE DIRECTIONS. 

R. means right of the stage ; C, center; R. C, right cen- 
ter; L., left; 1 E., first entrance; U. E., upper entrance; 
R. 3 E., right entrance up stage, etc. ; R. D., right door ; 
L. D., left door, etc. ; up stage, away from footlights ; down 
stage, near footlights. The actor is supposed to be facing 
the audience. 



CIVIL SERVICE 



Act I. 

Scene : Tlic zvorking room of a postofficc in a small 
town ill the Middle IV est. Time, y.^o a. ;;/., sez'eral days 
after Christmas. Lights on full throughout tJie act. 

Tliree doors open onto the stage; the one at R. leads to 
the postmaster's priz'ote office; the one at L. 5 E. to public 
part of the postoHice and leads to the street; the one at L. 
I E. seri'es as a stamp-ivlndoiv. Half of this latter door 
(the lower half) is blocked out by scenery, and the upper 
half is open, but temporarily concealed by a paper shade 
on a roller. Down L. near the audience is a small desk 
with a desk-chair back of it. Up R. is a table placed 
diagonally across the R. upper corner. Behind this table 
is a stack of cubby-holes for the assortment of mail. A 
long, heavy, oblong table stands in the C. of the stage, for 
use in assorting mail. A blackboard appears on rear ivall ; 
on it is chalked the train schedule. A large clock hauf/s 
at rear. Large calendar and lithographs appear 011 side 
7^'alls. High stool in front of table up R., several low 
stools around the table at C, two plain chairs dowii R. 
Waste baskets, mail sacks, a stamping machine, and any 
other postoHUce impedimenta add to the general effect, but 
are not essential. 

Bright music takes up the curtain. Mr. Simpson Peavy 
is discovered at rise working at rear of C. table. He is fill- 
ing a mail sack ivith letters, papers, parcels, etc.. and works 
energetically, reading addresses, postcards, etc. 

Enter Miss Octavia Reynolds from L. ? E. 

OcTAViA (up L.). May I come in? 

Peavy (at C). Why,' it's Miss Reynolds. (Bustles 
down L., dusts office chair and presents it to her at L). 
Good morning^. This is quite a surprise. (.Smiles at her.) 

Octavia (sits L.). Thank you. 

7 



8 CIVIL SERVICE. 

Peavv. Still snowing outside? 

OcTAViA. No, the snow has stopped, but it's awfully 
cold. Is my father here, Mr. Peavy? 

Peavy (at C). Yes; he's in his office. 

OcTAViA. He isn't busy, is he ? 

Peavy {smirks). Not too busy to see you, Miss Rey- 
nolds. 

OcTAViA (rises). Fll go right in. (Makes no effort to 
do so. ) It must be nearly time to open tlie postoffice. isn't 
it. Mr. Peavy? 

Peavy (briskly). Open her in ten minutes. Eight o'clock- 
sharp. 

OcTAViA. You're all alone, aren't you? (Pause in con- 
fusion.) I mean, Mr. Audaine hasn't come down yet, has 
he? 

Peavy. Yes, he's around somewheres. He's a mighty 
fine young man, Miss Reynolds ; a mighty fine young man. 

Octavia (carelessly). Yes, so I've heard. 

Peavy (leers at her). Only heard? Don't you know 
personally? A little bird has been whispering around that 
you and Steve are mighty good friends. 

Octavia (distantly). Mr. Peavy! (Rises.) 

Peavy. Oh, I didn't mean anything (hacking toward 
rear). It was only my little joke. You know me. Miss 
Reynolds, I'm bound to have my little joke. 

Octavia (severely). Please don't joke like that again. 
I don't like it. 

Peavy. AA'hy, I didn't say anything. I only said — 

Enter Steve Audaine from R. 

Octavia. Yes, I know what you said. (Sees Steve.) 
Why, Mr. Audaine ! 

Steve (crosses to her and shakes hands at L. C). Miss 
Reynolds. 

Peavy. I guess I'll go outside and see a friend of mine. 
(Steve arid Octavia are conversing and pay no attention 
to him.) Humph! (Louder.) I say, I guess I'll go out- 
side. 



CIVIL SERVICE. 9 

Steve (funis to him). Oh. all rig-lit; don't let us inter- 
fere. 

Peavv. Oh, } on ain't interfering at all. I guess I know 
that two is company and three hain't, and I don't reckon 
you need a shappyrone. (Crosses to L.) That little bird 
was a wise little bird, wasn't he? Must a been an owl. 
(Exit L.) 

OcTAViA {at L. C). Oh, I can't bear that man. 

Steve {at C). He isn't worth one of your thoughts. 

OcTAviA. He's such a gossip. {Pouts.) Why, he in- 
ferred that I came down here this morning to see you. 

Steve. I only wish you did. 

OcTAViA. I came to see father. I didn't see him at 
breakfast, and this is my birthday. 

Steve. I know it. You're a little Christmas snow bird. 

OcTAviA {smiles). Oh, Mr. Audaine. 

Steve {comes nearer to her). Miss Reynolds, Octavia, 
I want to give you a little remembrance of the happy occa- 
sion. May I ? 

Octavia. Why, Steve, how very formal you are. Of 
course you may. You are one of my oldest and closest 
friends. 

Stew^e {takes parcel from pocket). It isn't much. {Hands 
it to her.) I hope you'll wear it at your birthday party 
tonight. 

Octavia {opens package, displays leather box, ..draws out 
neck chain zvith dainty La'Vallicre attached). Oh, Steve, 
it is beautiful. How can I thank you? And it's for me? 
It's the dearest of all my presents just because you gave it 
to me. It's a darling. {Holds it up.) 

Steve. I saw it at the jewelry store and thought that 
it had been made on purpose for you. The little chain with 
the blue for-get-me-nots, just like your eyes. It seemed 
that it wouldn't be right for any other girl in town to have 
it because it just suits you. 

Octavia {putting it in leather box). You are too kind, 
Steve. But really, it's a very costly present, and after the 
beautiful present you gave me at Christmas, do you think I 
had better accept this? 



• - 

10 CIVTL SERVICE. 

Steve. Of course I do. I only wish it were diamonds 
and pearls. 

OcTAviA (siglis). Then I suppose I must; and I do 
thank you, Steve; you are so good to me. (At L. C.) 

Steve. There's only one other thing" I'd like to give you. 

OcTAViA. Something else? What is it? 

Steve (close to lier, speaks eagerly). A ring, a diamond, 
a solitaire. Would you wear it for me? Would you, 
Octavia? (At L. C.) 

OcTAViA. A solitaire for me? Oh, Steve, what would 
people say? 

Stfae. Just what I would w^ant them to say. Octavia, 
could you care for me a little? (Takes her hand.) When 
I care for you so much ? 

Enter Peavv from L. 

Peavy. Oh, excuse me. (They spring apart.) I didn't 
see nothing. I'll go out again, if you want me to. 

Octavia (haughtily). I don't understand what you 
mean to infer, Mr. Peavy. Mr. Audaine was just con- 
gratulating me on my birthday. 

Peavey (laughs insinuatingly). Oh, that was it, was it? 
Let me congratulate you, too. Maybe I ought to be con- 
gratulating- the both of you. 

Octavia (distantly). Thank you. 

Reynolds (outside R.). Steve, Steve, where in thunder 
is that last circular of instructions? Peavy. come here. 
I Avant 3'ou. 

Peavv (crossing to R.). Yes, sir; I'm coming, sir. 
(E.vits R.) ^ 

Octavia. Now, it will be all over town ; you know how 
people talk. 

Steve. Let them talk. Octavia, if you would only give 
me a little word of encouragement, just a little — 

Enter J. L. Reynolds from R. in shirt sleeves. 

Reynolds (at R.). I never saw such an office. Peavy 
hasn't got the sense of a tin monkey on a stick. We 
can't find a thing until Miss Kenyon comes back. (Sees 



CIVIL SERX'ICE. 11 

OcTAviA.) Octavia! Well, well ! Many happy birthdays, 
little girl. (Kisses her.) Did you get my little present? 
I left it at your breakfast plate. (Steve works at sortiiiij; 
mail at C. table.) 

Octavia. Oh, papa, it was so good of you. You are a 
perfect old dear. It's the dearest of all my presents, just 
because you gave it to me. I'll keep it always. See wdiat 
a lovely chain I got this morning. (Holds it tip.) 

Reynolds. Chain? Who gave it to you? (At L. C ) 

Octavia (bashfully). Mr. Audaine, father. 

Reynolds (7chistles in surprise). Steve? Well, well! 
(Slight pause. He turns to Steve.) Steve, I'm afraid 
you're spoiling my little girl. (Steve comes to R. C.) 

Steve. Mr. Reynolds, I — 

Reynolds. W^ell, take a little tip from father. Don't 
you take Octavia too seriously. She's a dear, little girl, 
but she mustn't be taken too seriously. 

Steve. I think I understand you, Mr. Reynolds. 

Reynolds. Go in and see if you can help Peavy find 
that last circular of instructions. Honest, he's turned my 
ofiice upside down. I wish Miss Kenyon was here ; she 
always knows where everything is. 

Steve. She's coming back this morning. 

Reynolds. Yes. on the ten-ten train. She could put her 
finger on that circular in a minute. 

Steve. I'll see if I can find it. Mr. Reynolds. (Exits R.) 

Reynolds (at C, turn to Octavia). Octavia. I'm afraid 
you've been encouraging that young man. 

Octavia {innocently). Oh, no. I haven't. He just likes 
me, that's all. I haven't had to encovirage him at all. 

Reynolds. Does he know that you are engaged to marry 
Archie Brocklen ? 

Octavia. Oh, papa, of course not. That would spoil 
everything. 

Reynolds. Steve is a fine young fellow. He's better 
looking- than young Brocklen. 

Octavia. He's only a clerk. A mere government clerk. 
What can you be thinking of? Of course he is good look- 



12 CI\»IL SERVICE. 

ing and nice ; indeed he's quite the nicest boy in town. But 
Mr. Brocklen is a gentleman. 

Reynolds. Yes, and he's in Kansas City, and what he 
don't know won't hurt him. But you'd better tell Steve 
about him, honey; you'd better let Steve know you're 
engaged. 

OcTAviA. Nothing of the sort. Why that would be hor- 
ribly crude. Steve really doesn't care any more for me 
than I do for him, but in a town of this size one must do 
something to pass away the time. 

Reynolds. So you've decided to do Steve. 

OcTAviA. Now, papa! (Slight pause.) We're only 
good friends, that's all. But I hope he won't find out about 
my engagement until I want him to. 

Reynolds. Well, don't make him spend too much 
money. Remember, he only gets a thousand a year. 

OcTAViA. Please let me manage it my own way. What 
harm is there in an innocent little flirtation? 

Enter Steve from R. 

Steve. Here's the paper you were looking for, Mr. Rey- 
nolds. 

Reynolds (^a^f-j- z7)- Thanks. {Crosses to R.) Come 
into the office, Octavia. (Exits R.) 

Steve. Must you go? 

Octavia (at R.). I'm afraid so. Come over to the 
party a little early tonight, Steve. 

Steve. You bet I will. I can hardly wait. Octavia, 
you do care a little for me, don't you ? 

Reynolds (off stage at R.). Octavia! 

Octavia. Yes, papa. (At door R.) AMiy, of course 
I do, Steve. Come early. (Exits R.) 

.Steve (at Table C sorts mail and hums "Dearie" or 
some similar love song). "Nothing's worth vAu\e but 
thoughts of you, dearie, my dearie." 

Enter Peavy from R. 

Peavy (goes to C. table and works sorting mail). Well, 
Steve, how far did you get ? 

Steve. I don't know what you mean? 



CIVIL SERVICE. 13 

Peavv. Got the date of the wedding settled yet? 

Steve. Whose wedding? 

Peavy. Oil, you know. Your wedding. 1 guess the 
postoffice force will have to be saving up their money to 
buy you a gilt picture or a piano lamp, or something. 

Ste\e. I don't know what you're talking about. 

Peavv. Well, a little bird has been a-telling me — 

Steve. Honest, Sim Peavy, you'd better pay more atten- 
tention to your work and less attention to that little bird. 

Peavy (angrily). Don't my work suit you? 

Steve {pleasantly). Sure, it does. As long as I don't 
have to do it. 

Peavy. Well, you ain't the postmaster of this town yet, 
Mr. Steve x\udaine, not by a long shot. And until you 
are, you'd better not be casting any reflections on my work. 
You ain't my boss, and don't you forget it. 

Steve. No, I ain't, that's a fact. If I were your boss 
Pd mighty soon hang out a sign saying "Man Wanted." 

Peavy. You're too smart, young man ; too darned smart. 
You think that just because you've got a kind of a pull 
with the postmaster's daughter, that you can run the whole 
Civil Service, but you can't. 

Steve. T think that you'd better not pay any more atten- 
tion to my private afl:"airs, Mr. Sim Peavy. I don't like 
it, and I give you fair warning that you'd better not con- 
nect my name with any other in your gossip. 'Cause, if 
you do, you and I are going to come together. Sim Peavy, 
and come together hard. 

Pe.wy. \Vell, then, maybe you'd better pay me that little 
money you owe me. Mr. Steve Audaine. It's ninety-eight 
dollars, and it's l^een running ever since the first of No- 
vember. 

Stene. I will pav vou just as soon as I get my January 
check. 

Pe.wy. ^'our lanuarv check won't amount to that much 
all together. 

Steve. \\'ell, you needn't worry. You'll get your money. 

Peavy. You bet I'll get my money. If I don't, I'll go 
to the postmaster about it. You're flying too high for a 



14 CIVIL SERVICE. 

man of your salary. It takes money to git into society in 
this town, and if you don't look out you'll lose your job. 

Steve. I'll pay you what I owe this week. And I don't 
need any of your advice. 

Peavy. Maybe you think you can pay me when you 
marry Miss Reynolds. 

Steve (hotly). If you couple my name with hers again 
I'll thrash you, Sim Peavy. (Comes toward him.) Re- 
member that ! 

Peavy. I was only joking. I didn't mean nothing, 
Steve. It's just my little joking way. Can't you take a 
joke ? 

Steve. Well, don't joke about me. I'm not in the mood 
for jokes. 

Peavy. My folks at home say that I'm the biggest cut- 
up in two counties; my wife is always laughing fit to kill 
at me. 

Steve. Yes, I should think she would. 

Peavy. But I can't afford to let that loan run any longer. 
I need the money, and I need it right away. If I was to 
tell the postmaster — (Clock strikes eight, off stage. Steve 
crosses to L., arranges desk, opens zvindow and sells stamps 
in pantomime. His back is toward Peavy.) 

Enter Octavia from R. 

Octavia. Good-bye, Steve. I'll look for you early to- 
night. 

Steve. I'll be there. 

Octavia. And thank you so much for your present. 
(Exit L.) 

Peavy. That's where my money goes, buying her pres- 
ents. 

Steve. Don't you worry about your money. I'll pay 
you in a couple of days. 

Peavy. I won't wait ; I want it right away. 

Enter Reynolds from R. 

Reynolds. Has old R. F. D. got here yet? 
Peavy. No, sir ; not yet. He's generally here by seven ; 
T hope lie ain't snowed up or nothin'. 



CIVIL SERVICE. 15 

Steve. He's just driving in. (Look off L.) I can see 
him in the snow. He looks like Santa Clans. 

Reynolds. T suppose he's frozen stiff. Thirteen miles 
through the snow on a morning like this is no snap. Go 
and help him hitch. 

Peavv. ^'es, sir; that's just what I was going to do. 
(Exit L.) 

Reynolds. Steve, you stay at the stamp window until 
Miss Kenyon comes. She's due on the ten-ten, hut it's 
fifteen minutes late. 

Steve. Yes. sir. (Sells stanif^s In pautoiniuu\ li'cighs 
parcels, etc.) 

R. F. D. (heard off stage at L.). All right, Mr. Peavy, 
much ohliged to you. \V'hoa, Bess ! Stiddy, gal ! Now 
gimme a hist with these packages. All right. 

Reynolds (at C. looks tozvard L.). Old R. F. D.'s get- 
ting pretty old for this winter work. Fll see if T can't fix 
a joh for him here in town. 

R. F. D. (^//7/ outside). Here T come. Lemme get at 
that fire. Fm froze as stiff as a six-foot icicle. 

Enter R. F. D. from L., packages around his neck on 
strings, arms and pockets full of parcel post packages. 
Stamps with cold, exercises arms, etc., to get warm. 

Reynolds (helping him unload). Got through all right, 
did you, R. F. D.? ' 

R. F. D. (at C). Did I? You bet I did. It takes more'n 
four foot of snow to keep me and that old mare, Bess, away 
from our business. "N'es, sir. 

Reynolds. Pretty cold, wasn't it ? Thirteen miles 
■through the snow? 

R. F. D. Well, postmaster, it wasn't no dream of a 
Fourth of July, nor nothin' like that. Si Barkins give me 
a good cup of coffee, and old Bess and me jogged along 
until we got here. Whew, it's cold! (Takes off muffler 
and mittens, looks at old mittens.) Got to git me a new 
pair o' mittens next pay day, shore. These have lasted me 
nigh onto four years, but they're gittin' down to the last 



16 CI\IL SKKVICE. 

stages of dilapidation, as you may say. (Turns to Steve.) 
Mornin', boy. 

Steve (pleasantly ). Morning", R. F. D. I thought when 
I saw you driving up that it was old Santa Claus himself 
coming to the postoffice. 

R. F. D. I guess I look like old St. Nick with all them 
bundles and things. But old Bess ain't what you'd call a 
reindeer, even in the summer time. She's a good animile. 
though, old Bess is, but she ain't no Maud S., as you might 
say, when it comes to speed. Where's the little princess? 
(Looks around.) I thought she was going to come back 
today. It don't seem natural when she ain't over there at 
the window sellin' stamps and etceterys. 

Reynolds. She's coming in on the morning train. 
You're right, old R. F. D., it don't seem like the same office 
without Kate Kenyon. 

Enter Peavy from L. 

Peavy. It's colder'n a salt mackerel. It's a wonder you 
wasn't friz, R. F. Didn't you get kind o' cold ? 

R. F. D. Well, I wasn't wet through with perspiration, 
as you might say. Long 'bout sun-up it ivas tolerably cold, 
and I thought once that old Bess was goin' to lay right 
down in the middle of the road and make a bee line for 
the happy hunting-ground. But I started to sing. I reckon 
I must a sung for nigh onto four miles, and old Bess, being 
a female critter, jest naturally had to keep step to my 
music. That's how we got here. 

Reynolds. That trip is getting pretty difficult for a 
man of your age, R. F. 

R. F. D. Man of my age? Humph! I ain't sixty-seven 
yit. I reckon I'm good for tw-enty vears vet on old Route 
No. 5. 

Reynolds. How w^ould you like to have a city run ? 

R. F. D. Not me. No siree; I wouldn't like it at all. 
Seems like country folks is nearer to my heart than city 
folks; they all appear jest like my own flesh and blood. 
All along the line it's "Hello, old R. F. D., and "Howdy," 
and, I snum, even the dogs and little children all know 



CIVIL SERVICE. 17 

the old man. You see, postmaster, I ain't got no family, no 
wife ner little children, not even a dog, so it kind o' does 
my old heart good to know all the people on my route. 
They're jest like my own kin folks, every one of 'em. 

Reynolds. But you'd be more comfortable here in tiie 
city. 

R. F. D. Mebbe so ; mebbe so ; but here in the city 
everybody is strangers to everybody else. Might be a thou- 
sand people right in gunshot of ye, but nary a one knows 
who you be, and don't give a cuss. Much obliged, post- 
master, fer all your kindness, but I'm goin' to stick close 
to old Route No. 5 until I have to leave Civil Service. 

Reynolds. Peavy, have you seen anything of the new 
man this morning. 

Peavy. No, sir; are we going to have a new sub? 

Reynolds. Yes. Young chap by the name of Wex. 
Comes from the country. Send him in as soon as he shows 
up. (Exit R.) 

Peavy (working at C. tabic). Seems like you got an 
extry large number o' parcel posts this morning, R. F. 

R. F. D. Yep. Folks is sending- their Christmas pres- 
ents back to be traded for groceries. Mail is ginerally con- 
siderably swelled up 'round Christmas time. Had to laff at 
the Widder Meaker, though. She was sendin' a mess of 
carrots over to her son-in-law's on Route 1, and she had 
'em in a basket without 'ary wrapper. She stood there 
talking to me and, I snum, if old Bess didn't come right 
up and eat two-three carrots right out'n the basket, right 
under the \\^idder's nose, as you might say. (Laughs.) 
And she was so skeered that she couldn't even say scat. 
GoLDiE Wex sticks his head in door at L. 

Goldie Wex. Say. is this the place? 
Peavy. Shut that door! It's colder'n zero. 
Goldie enters and stands sheepishly at door, twisting his 
hat and grinning. 

Goldie. How-de-do, mister. 

Peavy (at L. C). Howdy. What you want? 

Goldie. Say, this is the pustoffice, ain't it ? 



18 CIVIL SERVICE. 

Peavy (shortly). And what 'd you think it was, the 
Presbyterian Church ? 

(ioLDiE. Air you the pustmaster? 

Peavy (snaps). No, I ain't. 

GoLDiE. I thought you was the boss. 

Peavy. Mr. Reynolds is the postmaster. 

GoLDiE. Kin I see him? Paw says fer me to see the 
boss. 

Peavy. What do you want to see him for? 

GoLDiE. Coin' to work here. Pm the new hired hand ; 
Pm goin' to be a rurial free deUverer. 

Peavy. Oh. Is your name Wex? Mr. Wex? 

GoLDiE. No. Paw's Mr. Wex. Pm Goldie. 

Peavy (laughs derisively). Goldie? Boys, he says his 
name is Goldie. 

Goldie. Yes, sir; that's it; jest plain Goldie. Every- 
body thinks it's funny at first, but after you hear it for a 
spell you sorter get used to it. You see folks think it's 
funny cause my name is Goldie and cause my hair is kinder 
red. My paw named me Goldie. He got it out of a novel- 
book he was a-readin', and as I happened to arrive right 
along at that time, he up and hitched the Goldie onto me. 

Peavy. Wex is a funny name, too. Do folks call you 
Gold-dust for short? 

Goldie. Yes, sir; now and agin. W^hat's your name? 

Peavy (with dignity). Pm Mr. Peavy. Mr. Simpson 
Peavy. 

Goldie (laughs). Gee. that's just about as funny as 
Goldie. Do folks call vou Simp for short? (Steve and 
R. F. D. laugh.) 

Enter Reynolds from R. 

Reynolds (atR.). What's the excitement, boys? Circus 
parade in town? 

Peavy (at C). It's just about as good as one, Mr. Rey- 
nolds. It's the new sub. This is Mr. Goldie Wex. 

Reynolds (crosses to Goldie at L. C. and shakes hands 
heartily). Mr. Wex, Pm glad to know you. 

Goldie. Yes, sir; I am, too. 



CIVIL SERVICE. 19 

Reynolds (sni{li>ig). So you've received your notifica- 
tion, have you ? 

GoLDiE. My whatification ? No, sir; I don't guess I did. 

Reynolds. I mean a letter from the government telling 
you that you have heen appointed a carrier on Rural Route 
No. 7. 

GoLDiE. Yes, sir. I got a letter all right. It was a awful 
big letter. Biggest letter I ever see, by heck, and they had 
it all printed out so as I could be sure to read it. Got it last 
night. So paw says to me, he says, "Goldie, son" (paw 
allers calls me son, cause he's my father), he says, "Goldie, 
son, you're been appinted at the pustoffice." And sure 
enough, that's what it meant. So I rid in seven miles and 
here I be. 

Reynolds. Have the carriers gone out yet? 

Peavy. Yes, sir; at a quarter to eight. 

Reynolds. You can begin work this afternoon, Mr. 
Wex. 

Goldie. My paw said that seein' as how I was over 
nineteen, it was high time I was gittin' a job in town. 
'What kin he do?" says Uncle Jake. "God knows," says 
my paw. "Then git him a job in the pustoffice," says Uncle 
Jake ; so here I be. 

Reynolds. Peavy, show him where to put his coat, 
and introduce him to the force. (Exit R.) 

Peavy. Bring your hat and things in here. (Exit L ) 

Goldie. Yes, sir. I wonder if I kin take off my store 
shoes. They're new and are blisterin' my two feet some- 
thing awful. (Exit L.) 

R. F. D. (to Steve). What's the matter with ye, boy? 
Ain't you well? You don't look jest right. 

Steve. Oh, there's nothing the matter with me. I'm 
all right. 

R. F. D. You don't get enough exercise. You orter 
have a job like mine ; one that takes you right into the 
heart of nature. A trip to the woods, even in winter time, 
is as good as a tonic. 

Steve. I know it, R. F. I'm afraid I've been burning 
the candle at both ends for a month or two. 



20 CIVIL SERVICE. 

R. F. D. It don't pay, lad ; it don't pay. There's only 
one way to really enjoy life. Be natural, live simply and 
help your neighbor. That's been my motter fer nigh, onto 
twenty years. 

Enter Miss Goldstein from L. 

Miss Goldstein {coming do7vn C). Say, I want to see 
Mr. Audaine. Mr. Steve Audaine. Is he here? 

R. F. D. Yes, there he is. That's Mr. Audaine. 

Miss G. (goes to Steve, fakes package of bills from 
bag). You're the man I want to see. 

Steve (at desk L.). Good morning. What can I do for 
you this morning? 

Miss G. {at L. C, speaking loudly and assertively). I 
am representing the Goldstein Collecting Agency. I have 
a little bill against you for sixty-five dollars and fifty cents 
that is owing to the Simmons Jewelry Company. 

Steve {worried). Yes, I know. 

Miss G. And another little bill from the Kalem Tailor 
Company amounting to thirty dollars, and one from the 
Royal Florists amounting to fifteen dollars. It comes to 
a hundred and ten dollars and a half, and I'd like to have 
it settled this morning. 

Steve. Impossible. I can't pay you this morning. 

Miss G. All these bills have been running for some 
time ; they've got to be paid. 

Steve. Yes, I know ; I intend to pay them. You won't 
lose a cent. 

Miss G. You bet I won't lose a cent. You'll either 
make a settlement on these bills or you'll lose your job. 

Steve. I'll make a payment on the first of the month. 
• Miss G. You'll make a payment this morning! If you 
haven't the money, you must borrow it. Mr. Cohan will 
lend it to you. 

Steve. Yes. at eighty per cent interest. I don't do 
business with the loan sharks. 

Miss G. Oh, so you think you are above the loan 
sharks, do you? Well, it makes no difiference how you get 
it. That ain't my business. But you've got to get it, or 



CIVIL SERVICE. 21 

I'll go right in that office and speak to your boss. You 
won't be the first postoffice man that I've had to bawl out. 
Maybe you know what happened to Arthur Forrest. 

Steve. Yes, I do. He lost his position in the dead of 
winter, when his wife was sick and they had no food or 
fire in their little shanty for days. That was your fault. 
Are you proud of your success ? 

Miss G. Of course I am. I got my money ; that's what 
I'm after. And believe me, I'm going to get it from you. 

Steve. I tell you I can't pay you at this time. 

Miss G. Yes, and that's what you'll tell me next month. 
Those who dance must pay the fiddler. Come, now ; is it 
peace or war? 

.Steve. It's war! Go to the postmaster. Tell him what 
you will. You can't force me into the hands of the loan 
sharks. I'd rather lose my job. 

R. F. D. (has taken out old large zvallet and takes out 
two old bills). Boy, here, take this. Let the old man help 
you. 

Stf.ve. No ; I can't take money from you. She said 
that those who dance must pay the fiddler. Well, I'm 
ready to pay. 

R. F. D. Here, lady, take this. It's all I've been able 
to save. It's nigh onto four dollars. But mebbe I can let 
you have some more the first of the month. Don't be hard 
on the boy; don't ye, don't ye. Steve's a good boy and he'll 
pay you jest as soon as he's able. Don't be hard on him. 
He ain't got no mother. 

Miss G. Well, business is business. 

R. F. D. Can't you take this here money from me and 
give him another chance? 

Miss G. (to Steve). Do you hear that old man plead 
for you? Do you see him offering his few dollars to save 
you from public disgrace? 

Steve. Yes. (Bozvs head on desk.) 

Miss G. Do you want me to take that money from him? 

Steve. No ; a thousand times, no. Miss Goldstein, 
won't you give me another chance? Give me a month, a 
week. Only a week. If you will give me only one week, 



22 CIVIL SERVICE. 

I'll promise to have the money m your office by that time. 
Please give me another chance. 

Miss G. hesitates, then looks at R. F. D. 

R. F. D. Please, lady. Remember, he ain't got no 
mother. 

Miss G. Til do it. Fll give you a week. (Goes to R. 
F. D.) Say, I want to shake hands with you, old man. 
You are a gentleman, and. it is an honor to take you by 
the hand. (Sliakes hands "a'ith him.) 

R. F. D. Oh, I ain't done nothin'. 

Miss G. (resitniing brisk, business manner). That's all 
for today. (Turns to Steve.) Remember, you've just got 
one week. 

Steve. Fll remember and I want to thank you. I — 

Miss G. (interrupting). Don't waste your time in thank- 
ing me. You want to thank that good old man. That's 
all. (Goes to door at L.) Good morning. (Exit L.) 

Steve. R. F., how can I ever thank you? How can I 
ever show my appreciation for what you have done? 

R. F. D. {taking his Iiand). I've got a boy somewhere, 
just about your age, laddie. God grant that some one may 
be kind to him when he needs it. God send him a friend' 
in need. 

.Steve, ^'ou have a bov ? \\'hy, I never knew that, 
R. F. 

R. F. D. I ain't seen him in sixteen years, lad ; not since 

he was four. I don't know where he is, but I think of him 

every minute of the day, and dream of him by night. His 

eyes were just about the color of yours, l^d. And he was 

the cutest little feller you ever see. But I had to go away 

and leave him. They took me away and I never saw him 

nor his mother again. But, God is good, laddie. Some day 

ril see them. I feel it. I know it. Some day we'll meet 

again. . 

hnter Goldie carrying his shoes. 

GoLDiE (at L.). Say, is it agin the rules to work in my 
stocking feet? I got me a new pair of shoes this mornin' 
at the store. They're about 'leven sizes too little. But 



CIVIL SERVICE. 23 

when a feller lives in the city, he's got to dress in style. 
But they sure do hurt. 

Steve {returning to stamp zviiiduw). You'd better put 
them pn. The boss is liable to come in. 

GoLDiE (puts on shoes). Gee, but they hurt. I wish't I 
was back home on the farm. Don't never have to wear no 
shoes out there, 'cept on Sundays. (R. F. D. is filling a 
mail sack at rear.) 

R. F. D. Say, young- feller, you'd a better have stayed 
on the farm. 

GoLDiE. That's what I thought myself. But paw was 
bound and determined to git me a job at the pustoffice. 
And now I've got to wear shoes. Say, is there any pretty 
girls in this town? 

Steve (at stamp ivindow). Oh, yes. The woods are 
full of 'em. 

GoLDiE. Gee, that'll jest suit me. I'm a dabster hand 
when, it comes to the women folks. Folks out my way all 
say I'm a reg'lar devil with the ladies. 

Enter Mrs. Jeffs from L. 

Mrs. J. (coming down L. C). I want to see the post- 
master. 

R. F. D. (down R.). Ah, good morning, Mrs. Jeffs. 
Lovely winter morning. 

Mrs. J. (at C). I ain't got no time to talk about the 
weather. I want to see the postmaster, and I want to see 
him right away. 

Steve (at L.). It's against the rules to come in here. 
You'll have to go around in front to his office. 

Mrs. J. Young man, do you know who I am? 

Steve (meekly). No, ma'am. 

Mrs. J. I am Mrs. Jeffs. Mrs. T. R. Jeffs. Boy" (to 
Goldie, zvho is at L. C, staring at her open-mouthed), 
go in and tell the postmaster that Mrs. T. R. Jeffs wants 
to see him at once. 

Goldie. Yes, but — 

Mrs. J. (loudly). At once. Do you hear — at once! 



24 CIVIL SERVICE. 

GoLDiE. Yes, sir. At once. {Goes to door at R., stum- 
bles over furniture.) Yes, sir. At once. (Exits R.) 

R. F. D. (Jiaudint/ a chair). \Y\\\ you have a seat, Mrs. 
Jeffs? 

(Steve sells stamps at ivlndoiv, in pantomime.) 

Mrs. J. {taking chair). Certainly, I will. Ain't you got 
an easier one ? 

R. F. D. No'm ; I'm sorry, but we ain't. The govern- 
ment don't furnish rocking-chairs in the postoffice. 

Mrs. J. (dusts chair and then sits). I'll write to the 
Congressman about it. What do they expect ladies to sit 
on when they come here on business? It's outrageous. 
I want you to understand that I'm a citizen. I pay my 
taxes and I expect to have my rights. 

Enter Goldie from R. 

GoLDiE {at R. C, R. F. D. up hack). The pustmaster 
says he's busy now, but he'll be out in a few minutes. 

Mrs. J. {indignantly) . Can't see me? Can't see me? 
Did you tell him that Mrs. Jeffs wanted to see him? 

GoLDiE. Yes'm, that's what I done told him. 

Mrs. J. Mrs. T. R. Jeff's? 

Goldie. Yes'm. Mrs. T. R. Jeff's. 

Mrs. J. (grandly). Well, what did he say to that? 

Goldie. He says, he says, says he. (Pause.) Say, 
maybe I hadn't better tell you what he did say? 

Mrs. J. (ominously). Well, what did he say? 

Goldie. Well, if you got to know, he says tell that old 
gabber that he'll be out when he gets good and ready. 
(Steve laughs in pantomime.) 

Mrs. J. \A'hat! What! Old gabber? Did Jake Rey- 
nolds call me an old gabber? 

Goldie. Yes'm. I think that's what it was. Maybe it 
was an old gobbler. 

Mrs. J. (rises). Old gobbler! Oh, I'll write to the Con- 
gressman ; I'll write to the Postmaster General ; I'll write 
to the President. Old gobbler! Oh, I never was so in- 
sulted in all my life. (Walks up and down excitedly.) 



CIVIL SERVICE. 25 

R. F. D. (coming to her). There, there, Mrs. Jeffs. I 
reckon that boy got your name wrong. I'm sure Mr. Rey- 
nolds never would call you old at all. Much less a gabber 
or a gobbler. He must have thought it was someone else. 
Yes, ma'am, I'm certain sure there was a mista'Ke. I hope 
you'll overlook this young man, Mrs. Jeffs, ma'm, he's new 
in Civil Service. And the postmaster— why, the postmaster 
would never dream of saying such a thing about a promi- 
nent lady like you are. No, ma'am, not for a minute. I'll 
speak to him. (Exit R.) 

Mrs. J. (sotneivhat mollified). Now, there's a man 
who's got some sense. 

GoLDlE. I didn't mean nothin'. Honest, I didn't. 

Mrs. J. You. You don't know enough to come in out 
of the rain. 

GoLDiE. No'm, I don't. But I allers carry an umberill 
in wet weather. 

Enter Reynolds from R., foUozved by R. F. D. 

Reynolds (corning to her). Why, Mrs. Jeffs, dear Mrs. 
Jeffs, this is indeed a pleasure. I didn't realize who was 
out here, or I wouldn't have kept you a minute. 

Mrs. J. That boy said you called me an old gobbler. 

Reynolds. The idea ! Preposterous, perfectly prepos- 
terous. Goldie, I'm surprised at you. I'll speak to you 
later. 

Goldie. Well, you said to tell that old — 

Reynolds. That will do. Go in my office and wait 
for me. 

Goldie. It's all the fault of these darned store shoes. My 
feets hurtin' like old Tom Gin. Gee, I wish't I was back 
on the farm. (Exit R.) 

Reynolds. Now, Mrs. Jeffs, what can I do for you? 
(R. F. D. fills sack at rear. Steve sells stamps.) 

Mrs. J. I want to mail this letter. 

Reynolds. All right. Just drop it in that box. 

Mrs. J. But I want to be sure it gets where it's going. 

Reynolds. Oh. that's all right. Just write the address 
on the envelope. 



26 CIVIL SERVICE. 

Mrs. J. (iiidifjiiantly). Jake Reynolds, I ain't in my 
dotage yet. I guess 1 know enough to address a letter. 
The idea ! 

Reynolds (piicdcd). Well, what can I do for you. 
then? If it's addressed, drop it there, and it will go out 
by the next train. 

Mrs. J. But I want a guarantee that it will be safe. 

Reynolds. Oh, you want your letter registered. Right 
over there. Mr. Audaine will wait on you. 

Mrs. J- I was there, and he said it would cost ten cents 
extra. Now, I ain't goin' to let the government rob me. 
I put on a two-cent stamp, and that's enough. I got a hun- 
dred dollars in that letter. Two fifty dollar bills. (Steve 
listens. ) 

Reynolds. All right. Mail it just as it is; but you mail 
it at your own risk. 

Mrs. J. That's just what I refuse to do. I've heard of 
money getting lost in the mails and of its being stole in 
the postoffice. Now, I want you to see to it that my hun- 
dred dollars gets to where it's going all right. 

Reynolds (sarcastically). Maybe you'd like for me to 
carry the letter and deliver it in person. 

Mrs. J. See here. I don't want no sarcasm. If the 
President knew how you talked to your customers, I'll bet 
he'd appoint a new postmaster. I'm going to mail this 
letter just as you advised me to do, but understand I do 
it at your own risk. If that money is lost, you've got to 
make it good for me. 

Reynolds. Good morning. (Exits R.) 

Mrs. J. Humph ! Since Jake Reynolds got appointed 
postmaster, he thinks he runs the whole government. 
(Drops letter in box.) I'll send it at his risk. (Cross to 
door at L.) Wasn't he the sarcastic thing? Some people 
seem to think they own the whole earth. (Exits at L.) 
grandly.) 

Steve. Yes, and she's one. of them. The richest woman 
in town, and the stingiest. 

R. F. D. Well, I'm going to hitch up old Bess and drive 
over to the station and meet Miss Kate. Say, lad, our little 



CIVIL SERVICE. 27 

stamp clerk is a mighty fine gal. They don't make 'em 
much finer than Miss Kate is. I sure will be glad when 
she comes back. Seems like the sun shines brighter when 
she's workin' there at the window. (Cross to door.) See 
you later. (Exit L.) 

Steve (picking up envelope dropped in box by Mrs. J.). 
Here it is. {Glances around, then reads address.) "Mc- 
Chesney Real Estate Company, Milford." From. Mrs. 
Jefifs. And she said there was one hundred dollars in it. 
(Glances around stealthily.) One hundred dollars. That 
will save me. (Tries to open letter.) I wonder if I can. 

Enter R. F. D. from L. He watches Steve. 

Steve. A little steam will open it. I'll do it tonight. 
(Pockets letter.) 

R. F. D. Steve, lad! 

Stk\I': (startled). \\'hat is it? What do you want? 

R. F. D. (goes to table at rear). Nothing much. Only 
I forgot the mail sacks. 

Steve. Mail's pretty light today. _ 

R. F. D. Yep. Always is jest after the holidays. 
(Gathers up sacks, etc. Puts them on his shoulder.) 

Steve. Certainly is cold this year. Why. last year the 
flowers were all in bloom at Christmas time. Just think. 
R^ses in December. It was the mildest winter since '99. 

R. F. D. (pausing up C.). Yes, I remember the winter 
of '99. W^armest winter I ever see. Flowers bloomed all 
through February. 

Steve. Yes, but they say they had a freeze in April. 

R. F. D. I don't remember that. I wasn't where I 
could see the freeze in April. (Sadly.) I never saw the 
flowers bloom again for sixteen years. 

Steve. You must have been up in Alaska. 

R. F. D. (puts sacks dozvn, comes to Steve, speaks 
sadly). No, I was in prison. 

Steve (starts). In prison? You? 

R. F. D. Yes. Sent up in '99. Postoffice robbery. 
Got fifteen vears. 



28 CIVIL SERVICE. 

Steve. Fifteen years in prison? (Horrified.) Fifteen 
years! Why, that's a hfetime. 

R. F. D. That's what I thought. It was more than a 
Hfetime ; it was an eternity. The stone waUs, the stripes, 
the lock-step and ball and chain, the work in the foundry, 
and always the dull, hopeless knowledge that tomorrow 
would be exactly like today. They took my clothes away 
and gave me stripes ; they took my name away and gave 
me a number. I was no longer a man ; I was a criminal, 
an outcast, a thing to be shunned and pointed at. I was 
a thief. 

Steve (starts, involuntarily his hand goes tozvard coat 
pocket zvhere he placed the letter). Fifteen years! 

R. F. D. {fiercely). I saw my wife torn from my arms, 
forced in the streets to starve. And my boy, my baby boy, 
was sick. He was only four years old. I had been having 
a hard winter. I stole a letter containing twenty dollars. 
They tore me away from my loved ones, away to that living 
death. But that was not the worst. Not a word came 
from my wife ; not a letter, not a message. Absolute si- 
lence. More than a year later I learned my wife was dead. 
Had died of a broken heart two months after I was sent up. 
{Sohs.) And I never knew until after a year. Something 
in me died' that night. For the first time in my life I hated 
humanit}^ I determined to be revenged upon a society 
that had so unjustly used me. For three years in that 
prison I lived with but one thought, endured everything 
with, but one purpose, to get free and then repay my debt. 
I lived but for revenge. 

Steve. What happened to your little boy? Did he die, 
too? 

R. F. D. No. That was the only thing that saved me. 
[ heard a traveling evangelist preach on our duty to the 
living. Every one of us, even the lowest outcast, owed a 
duty to his fellow man, a duty to his own offspring. I 
thought of my boy — out there in the big world all alone — 
and I determined to make another trial. I determined to 
live for my boy. 

Steve. And you found him? 



CIVIL SERVICE. 29 

R. F. D. No; I was too late. I've never seen my boy 
since the day they tore me from his Httle arms. But 1 will 
find him. God is good. I have suffered more than my 
share. I have sinned, but I have paid the penalty. Some 
day I'll find my boy. But, oh, lad, for fifteen years I paid 
the penalty of my one thoughtless crime. I robbed the 
government mail. I stole twenty dollars. And that act 
of crime and folly cost me my wife, my only child and 
fifteen years of my life. (Slowlv). Fifteen years of my 
life. 

Steve (fakes letter front pocket). Fifteen years! 

Enter Reynold.s from R. Stk\e places letter back in his 
pocket. 

Reynolds. Hello, R. F. Train's just about in. Hurry 
with the mail. 

R. F. D. Yes, sir. .(Grabs mail sacks and runs out L.) 

Reynolds. Well, Steve, I guess you'll be glad to see 
Kate back again. 

Steve. Oh, yes, sir. 

Reynolds. Say, why don't you try to make a match 
with our little stamp clerk? She likes you awfully well, 
and Kate's a girl in a million. 

Steve. Why, er — {confused). I'm sure Kate don't 
care for me in that way at all. 

Reynolds, ^^^ell, take a tip from me, Steve. Don't fly 
too high. (Cross to door at R.) Cause if you fly too high, 
you're apt to drop pretty far. (Exit R.) 

Steve. I wonder if he meant Octavia. No, she loves 
me and she can win her father's consent. 

Enter Peavy with mail sacks. Enter Goldie from R. If 
there is a stamping machine convenient, let Peavy run let- 
ters through. If not, let him ivork at sorting up C. 

Peavy. Miss Kate's got home, Steve. 
Goldie. Say, what do I have to do now? 
Peavy. Just come here and help me. 
Goldie. Say, can I take ofif my shoes ? My feet hurt 
like old Tom Gin. 



30 CIVIL SERVICE. 

Peavy. And Miss Kate coming? I guess not? 
GoLDiE. Gee, I wish't I was back on the farm. 

Enter R. F. D. from L. 

R. F. D. (at C). Here she is; here she is Looking as 
pretty as a red rose in a snow storm. {Goes to R.) 

Enter Reynolds from R. 

Reynolds (up C). Did Miss Kate get in?" 

R. F. D. You bet she did. postmaster. She's out in 

front now. 

Peavy (looking out of door at L.). It's her; it's her. 

Howdy, Miss Kate ; howdy. Glad to see you home again. 

Enter Kate Ken yon from L. 

Kate. Back again, boys. After all, there's no place 
like home, sweet home. 

Reynolds (nieetinq her at C). Have a good time. Miss 
Kate ? 

Kate (shaking his hand). Did I? I had the time of my 
young life. I went to three teas, two parties and the 
Christmas ball. I thought I was back in my high school 
days. {Goes to SrKWE.) Laddie, you're looking bad. What's 
the matter? Indigestion or a new love afifair? 

Steve {lightly). Yearning for you; that's all. I was 
simply pining away. 

Kate (goes to R. F. D.). And how's the parcel post 
coming? Any more cans of maple syrup explode? Oh, 
R. F., how happy I am to see you again. You look as nat- 
ural as life and twice as handsome. (Puts her coat and hat 
on rack.) 

R. F. D. We're mighty glad to have you back with us 
again. Miss Kate. It's just like as if some one pulled up 
the shade and let in all the sunshine of a June morning. 
And the birds seem to chirp and twitter and sing because 
our little princess has got back again. 

Kate. You dear! Steve, why couldn't you or Mr. 
Peavy have thought of that. I tell you all that you can 
take lessons in chivalry from our dear old R. F. D. (Puts 
on black apron and sleeves.) 



CIVIL SERVICE. 31 

Peavy. I was just goin' to say the same thing, hut R. F. 
took the words right out of my mouth, 

Reynolds. Miss Kate, this is our new hoy, Mr. Goldie 
Wex. 

Kate {sliakiiig hands). So glad to meet you, Mr. Wex. 

Goldie. ^'es, ma'am. Much obhged. Merry Christ- 
mas. 

Reynolds. Come into my office, Wex. I need you. 
{fixit R.) 

Kate. I hope you wnll like your work. If you want to 
know anything, just ask me. 

Goldie. I want to know how to wear store shoes with- 
out making my feet feel like old Tom Gin. You see, I got 
two corns — 

Peavy. That'll do, my golden sunset. The postmaster 
wants you. 

Goldie. Yes, ma'am. .Much obliged. Gee, I wish't I 
was back on the farm. (E.vit R.) 

Peavy. Mail for 47 all up. {Takes sack and exits L.) 

Kate {crosses to Steve, speaks sympathetically). Been 
having a good time, laddie, while I was away? 

Steve. Not much doing. I missed you awfully, Kate. 
I always miss you when you go away. (R. F. D. takes sack 
and quietly exits at L.) 

Kate (softly). Do you, laddie? 

Steve. You've been awfully good to me. You're the 
best friend a young fellow ever had. I wish I could make 
you understand how much I appreciate all you have done 
for me. You made me give up my job in the shops and 
go to a business college at night. You got me my job here 
in the postofifice. Honest, I — 

Kate (L. C). Now, now; you're trying to spoil me with 
your blarney. Haven't you doubly repaid me? By being 
honest and faithful and true. Mr. Reynolds thinks you are 
the best clerk on the force. He told me last month that 
he could trust you with anything. 

Steve (zvinces). Did he say that? 

Kate. Yes. And, oh, laddie, how I have missed you. 



32 CfVIL SERVICE. 

There wasn't a man at home who could dance like you can. 
^^^^at have you been doing for the two weeks I was away? 

Steve. Well, not much. I've been kept pretty close 
here at the office during the holiday rush. {Comes to her 
at C.) Kate, you and I have been good friends for six 
years now. Ever since that night at the church, social when 
I bought the lunch you raffled ofif. I took you home that 
night. Remember ? 

Kate. Yes. Six years ago. It doesn't seem that long, 
does it lad? 

Steve. We were just kids then, but we've been pals 
ever since. I never knew my mother or father. They died 
when I was a little fellow and I was taken to a children's 
home. I never had a real friend until I met you. So it 
only seems natural to me to tell you all my plans for the 
future. 

Kate (startled). Your plans for the future? 

Steve. Yes, Kate ; I'm in love. 

Kate. You? In love? 

Steve. I'm not sure what she thinks about me. We've 
been awfully good friends, and I'm afraid to tell her how 
I feel, for fear it may break off our friendship. 

Kate. Does she know that you care for her? 

Steve. I think she guesses it. 

Kate. Then she is more clever than I am. I never 
dreamed that you were in love, lad. 

Steve. I get nearly a hundred a month. Lots of fel- 
lows get married on that. It won't mean a big house or 
servants, or a car, but — 

Kate. Maybe she won't want a big house or servants 
or a car. Maybe all she wants is you, laddie ; you and 
your love. A big house is such a nuisance to manage. 

Steve. Honest, do you think so? I could rent a little 
cottage. A little cottage with a yard and red roses and a 
porch. Do you think a girl could be content with that? 

Kate {ecstatically) . ^^^ith roses and a porch? Oh, laddie! 

Steve. Do you think she would listen to me? 

Kate (softly). It all depends on the girl. You haven't 
told me who she is vet. 



CIVIL SERVICE. 33 

Steve. She is an angel. 

Kate. A postoffice angel ? 

Steve. In a way, yes. But she is so far above me. 
She has so much and I have so little to offer — 

Kate (pauses, as if turned to stone). So much? She's 
wealthy, then? 

Steve. Yes. It is Miss Reynolds. 

Kate (lozv voice). Miss Reynolds? 

Steve. Octavia. I have loved her from the first mo- 
ment I ever saw her. 

Kate (slozvly clenches her hands, fighting for self-con- 
trol). Miss Reynolds? (Breathes hea%nly.) 

Steve. Yes. You understand, don't you? 

Kate (softly). Yes, laddie, I understand. I understand. 

Enter R. F. D. from L. 

R. F. D. The mail is all up. 

Steve. All right. (Goes to L. door.) Kate, be sure 
and wait for me at noon. (Exits E.) 

R. F. D. Shall I open the front stamp window for you, 
little princess ? 

Kate (softly). Yes, please. (Exit R. F. D. at E. 
Kate stands at C. like a statue, then suddenly breaks 
dozvn.) He loves Miss Reynolds. My laddie, my laddie! 
(Sobs.) My dream is over. (Totters to desk, sinks in 
chair and sobs on desk at E.) My dream is over. 

Slow Curtain. 



34 CIVIL SERVICE. 

Act II. 

Same scene as Act I. Time, a week later, at \\ :50 a. m. 
Kate is discovered selling stamps at zvindozv at L. Pe'avy 
and GoLDiE working at table up. C. Steve zvorkin-g at desk 
down R. 

Bright music takes up curtain and stops as soon as char- 
acters begin to speak. Lights on ftdl throughout the act. 

GoLDiE. Seems to me that it's about time to eat. 

Steve {looking at clock). Ten minutes yet, Goldie. 

GoLDiE. Gee, ten minutes more to wait. I'm so huns^ry 
that I could eat a crowbar, if it was fried in butter. City 
folks don't git near as much to eat as country folks do. 
Wish't I was back on the farm. 

Peavy. Say, young feller, you wanter talk less and 
work more. Uncle Sam don't pay you to talk. 

Goldie (indignantly). What you want me to do? Per- 
tend I'm deef and dumb? Nobody never says nothin' agin 
my talkin' on the farm. 

Peavy. It's a pity you ain't out there. 

Enter Reynolds from R. zvith open telegram in hand. 

Reynolds (at R. C). Say, I just got a telegram from 
the Postmaster General. 

Goldie (down L. C, open-mouthed). Did he say any- 
thing about me? 

Reynolds (paying no attention to him). We're to have 
a half-holiday this afternoon. 

Goldie. Hur-ray! What's happened? 

Reynolds. One of the big politicians is dead. 

Goldie. Good fer him. I wish't one of them would 
die every day. 

Reynolds. Wex, run up the flag at half-mast. We'll 
close the office at noon. Peavy, I want to see you. (Exit 
R.) 

Peavy. Yes, sir. (Exit R.) 

Steve. Goldie, go up and put the flag at half-mast. 



CIVIL SKKVICK 35 

GoLDiK. Yes. sir. (Goes to L.) Ain't nothin' to do but 
work. {At door.) Gee, I wish't I was back on the farm. 
(Exit L.) 

Steve (crosses to Kate). This half holiday will do you 
good. You ought to take a good long sleep. 

Kate (at L.). Oh, I'm all right, Steve. A good, long 
sleep wouldn't do me any good. 

Steve. What's the matter with you lately, Kate? You 
don't seem like your old self. 

Kate (sadly). No, laddie; my old self is dead. 

Steve. I'm awfully sorry. This has been the happiest 
week of my life. 

Kate. Has Miss Reynolds given you her promise? 

Steve. \Nq\\, not exactly. But I feel sure she cares for 
me. She allows me to take her everywhere. 

Kate (earnestly) . I hope she loves you, laddie. I hope 
she will make you happy. 

Steve. She's a wonderful girl, Kate. If only I was 
worthy of her. 

Kate. You are. An honest, upright man is worthy of 
any woman he loves. And you are upright and honest, lad. 
You're white clear through. 

Steve. Oh, you don't know. Maybe I'm not worth 
your high opinion. 

Kate. You are. Maybe I know you better than you 
know yourself. 

Steve. But Octavia is far above me. She is rich and 
accomplished. 

Kate. And if she loves you truly, you have nothing to 
fear. 

Steve. Yes, if she does. Sometimes I think she does, 
and then at other times I doubt it. I think that if she really 
cared for anyone else, that life wouldn't be worth living. 
I know I'm jealous, but it's the toughest thing in life to 
care for some one when you know they care for some one 
else. 

Kate. Yes, laddie, that's the toughest thing in life. 

Enter Octavia from L. 



36 CrVIL SERVICE. 

OcTAViA. (Jh, I beg your pardon. I hope I'm not in- 
truding. 

Steve (rises). Not at all. We were just talking" about 
you. That is, I was. 

OcTAViA (down R.). About me? What were you saying? 

Kate (rises). Mr. Audaine has been telling me his se- 
cret. He is like a brother to me, Miss Reynolds. I hope 
you will be very, very happy. 

Octavia. Oh, you mustn't say that. 

Steve (embarrassed). No, Kate, you mustn't say that. 

Octavia. Why, it's perfectly absurd. We're not en- 
gaged, are we, Steve? 

Steve. Not yet. 

Octavia. Don't be silly, Steve. You know we never 
could be engaged. Why, you couldn't keep me in gasoline. 

Steve. No^that is — well — 

Kate. Oh, I hope I haven't started anything. 

Octavia. And Steve knows that I'm engaged to some 
one else. 

Steve (astounded). Engaged to some one else? 

Octavia. Of course. Didn't you know? 

Steve. No, I didn't know. 

Octavia. It hasn't been announced yet, but I thought 
father had told you. 

Steve. It isn't true, is it? Is it, Octavia? 

Octavia. Of course it is. It's just as well that you 
learned the truth at once. 

Steve (sinks in chair and bttries face). Oh, Octavia! 

Octavia. I never dreamed that you really cared. Now, 
don't make a scene, Steve. I hate scenes. And remember 
there are just as good fish in the sea. Miss Kenyon, is 
papa in his office? 

Kate. Yes, Miss Reynolds I believe he is. 

Octavia (superciliously). Thank you so much. (Goes 
to door at R.) Poor old Steve. I thought you knew all 
the time. (Exit R.) 

Kate (crosses to Steve, puts her hand on his shoulder). 
Steady, lad. I'm awfully sorry. I can't tell you how sorry 
I am. 



CTVIL SERVICE. 37 

Steve (takes her hand, boivs his head over it. Pro- 
nounced pause.) That's all right, Kate. Thank God all 
women are not like Octavia Reynolds. 

Kate. Hush, lad, hush. 

Steve. A flirt, a coquette. And I — I have risked my 
reputation to gratify her slightest desire. For her sake 
I have committed crime? 

Kate. Steve, Steve! What are you saying? 

Enter Goldie from L. 

GoLDiE. I got the old flag up at half-mast, and I hope 
she stays there till the Fourth of July. Say, ain't you folks 
goin' to close the office? 

Kate {goes to windozv, pulls down shade). Yes, Goldie. 
The office is closed. 

Goldie. Fm goin' to take my girl to the movies this 
afternoon. I might be from the country, but Fm going to 
show her Fm a sport. Fm going to spend fifteen cents. 
(Exit R.) 

Kate. Straighten up your desk, lad. We'll take a long 
walk. The air will do you good. 

Steve (rises). No, Kate. Fve got some business to see 
to. Maybe it's not too late yet for me to become an honest 
man. (Takes Jiat and exits at L.) 

Kate (at C). An honest man? I wonder what he 
means ? I wonder what he means ? 

Enter Goldie from R. carrying an official letter. 

Goldie (at R.). Say, Miss Kate. 

Kate. What is it, Goldie? 

Goldie. Here's a letter for Mr. Ira Troutman, Esquire. 
It's marked general delivery, and it is an official envelope. 
Who is Mr. Ira Troutman, Esquire. 

Kate (takes letter). I'll deliver it myself. I know Mr. 

Troutman. „ ^ 

Enter R. F. D from R. 

R. F. D. Goldie, the postmaster wants you right away. 

Goldie. He does? Gee, he's always wantin' me. 

Nothin' to do round this office but work. As soon as my 



38 CIVIL SERVICE. 

girl brings my lunch, I'm going to take her to the movies 
right away, before they find any more work for me to do. 
Gee, I wish.'t I was back on the farm. (Exit R.) 

Kate. I've got something for you, R. F. 

R. F. D. (at R.). What you got, little princess? 

Kate. A letter for Mr. Ira Troutman, Esq. 

R. F. D. A letter for me ? 

Kate. Here it is. (Gives Jiim the letter.) 

R. F. D. It's a government letter. Something about my 
application for a homestead. 

Kate. Goldie didn't know who Mr. Ira Troutman was. 

R. F. D. Nope. So many folks call me R. F. D. that 
sometimes I clean forget myself who Ira Troutman is. 

Kate. Nobody knows but the postmaster and me. 

R. F. D. It ain't necessary. Old R. F. D. is a purty 
good old name. ( Opens letter, puts on old-fashioned spec- 
tacles, reads.) 

Kate (after a pause). Is it good news. R. F. ? 

R. F. D. The best in the world. I've been awarded a 
homestead way up in Montana. A little farm all to myself. 
Just me and old Bess. 

Kate (at C). Are you going to resign? 

R. F. D. Yes. I reckon I be. I kinder hate to leave all 
of you. You certainly have been good to the old man ; 
but I've always wanted a home, and now's my chance to 
git one. Then, when I find my boy, I'll have a home all 
ready for him. 

Kate (softly). And do you ever think you'll find him, 
R. F.? 

R. F. D. Yes, little princess, I do. The Lord is good. 
I trust in Him. Some day I'll find my boy. 

Kate. What is his name — R. F. ? 

R. F. D. The same as mine. Ira Troutman, Junior. 
Named after his paw. 

Kate. I hope you'll find him. I do, with all my heart. 

R. F. D. Thank you. little princess ; thank you. You're 
the right sort. You're jest the kind of a little girl I'd like 
to have fer a daughter. Say, when I do find my boy, 
maybe he'll take a shine to you ; and then you two would git 



CIVIL SERVICE. 39 

married, and we'll all move out there on my little home- 
stead in Montana. How "nd you like that? 

Kate. I'd love it, R. F. But I'll never marry any- 
one. I'm too busy to think about getting married. 

R. F. D. Oh, hush. You'll change your mind when the 
right man comes along. 

Kate (sadly). No, it's too late now. It's too late. 

R. F. D. You don't mean that you've met the right man 
already ? 

Kate. I don't know. (Goes to him.) Oh, R. F., my 
heart is breaking. (He puts his . arm around her as she 
sobs.) 

R. F. D. There, there, honey, don't ye take on so. Don't 
ye. There never was a cloud yet too dark to have a silver 
lining. Remember, the Lord is good. You jest keep on 
trusting and hoping. Leave it all to Him, and everything 
is jest naturally bound to come out all right. Now\ git 
on your -coat and bunnet, and I'll take you fer a little ride 
with old Bess. 

Kate. But — 

R. F. D. Now, don't argue with me. The air'll do you 
good, and old Bess is jest pining to lickity-cut out into the 
country. Come on, honey. 

Enter Peavy from R. 

Peavy. Hello, R. F., where you going? 

Kate. We're going for a little spin out in the country. 
(Puts on hat.) 

Peavy. Gee, R. F.'s getting pretty spry for an old 
fellow^ You're cuttin' us all out, R. F. 

R. F. D. I can't help it, if the girls take a shine to me. 
I might be nigh onto seventy, but I'm still in the ring, I'm 
still in the ring. (Exit at L. zvith Kate.) 

Peavy. No fool like an old fool. WeW, we got a half 
holiday today. Guess I'll go home and have a fuss with 
my wife. 

Enter Birdie Bivins from L. She enters hashfidly, 
carrying a lunch basket. 

Birdie (at door L.). Good morning. 



40 aVlL SERVICE. 

Peavy. Mornin'. 

Birdie. Can I come in? 

Peavy. Looks like you're in already. What you want? 

Birdie (bashfully tzvists foot). Him. 

Peavy. What him ? The woods is full of hims. 

Birdie. You know. I mean Goldie. The new boy. Mr. 
Wex. That's him. Mr. Goldie Wex. (Giggles.) 

Peavy. Gee whiz, this here mailing room is gittin' to be 
a regular lover's paradise. 

Birdie. Is he here ? 

Peavy. Yep ; he's around somewheres. 

Birdie (comes to him, speaks confidentially). Say, he's 
an awful cute feller, ain't he? Some girls don't like red- 
heads, but my maw says that seein' as how I ain't no ten- 
thousand-dollar beauty myself, that I can't be too particu- 
lar. I'm kinder crazy about Goldie. (Giggles.) 

Peavy. You must be crazy to be crazy about him. 

Birdie. Of course I know he ain't no dude — and he's 
got freckles, and pigeon-toes, and brick-colored hair, but 
his heart's in the right place. 

Peavy. What you want him for? 

Birdie. I brung his lunch. I work over at his aunt's 
boarding-house. 

Peavy. Well, he'll be here in a minute. 

Birdie. Say, mister, he ain't got a regular job, is he? 

Peavy. No, he's only a substitute. 

Birdie. Will he ever git a stiddy job ? 

Peavy. I don't know, I'm sure. 

Birdie. He's a rural free deliverer, ain't he? 

Peavy. Yes. 

Birdie. Does a rural free deliverer make enough money 
to git married on? 

Peavy. That all depends. How much would you think 
necessary? 

Birdie. Well, I wouldn't marry no man who didn't make 
at least ten dollars a week. And I'd a heap ruther he'd 
be makin' twelve. Some folks say that love and kisses is 
all that's necessary. AA^ell, it may be fer some, but love 
and kisses ain't very fillin' fer the stomach. I ain't goin' 



CIVIL Slik\'ICE. 41 

to marry no man who ain't got a stickly job and ten dollars 
a week. 

Peavv. Maybe Goldie don't want to git married. 

Birdie (surprised). Of course he don't. No man never 
wants to git married, at tirst. A girl has got to lead 'em 
up to it. Say, mister, do you know whether he likes roast 
pork? His aunt said he didn't, but we didn't have no other 
kind o' meat, so I brung him some anyhow. Now, there's 
me, I like roast pork, so he might jist as well begin to git 
used to likin' the things that I like. I ain't goin' to pamper 

no man. c . r- x e> 

Enter Goldie from R. 

Goldie. Hello, Birdie. 

Birdie. Hello, Goldie. I brung your lunch. 

Goldie, Much obliged. (Looks at Peavy.) Mornin', 
Mr. Peavy. 

Peavy (working at table). Mornin'. 

Birdie (at L.). Ain't you glad to see me, Goldie? 

Goldie (at R., bashfully tzvists foot). Kinder. 

Birdie. Is that all ? And I brung your lunch clean over 
here in all this snow. 

Goldie. Darn it, course Pm glad. (Looks at Peavy.) 
Mornin', Mr. Peavy. 

Peavy. Aw, what's eatin' you? 

Goldie. Say, don't the postmaster want to see you er 
something? 

Peavy. Say, are you runnin' this postoffice or not ? You 
ain't no boss of mine. If you want to kiss that girl, go on 
outside and do it. 

Birdie (loudly). Why, you old — you old — hippopotamus. 
Goldie Wex, are you goin' to stand there and let that there 
man insult me afore your very face. 

Goldie. No, I ain't. (Throws off his coat.) Durn you, 
Sim Peavy, you've got to fight. (Dances around, sparring, 
springing back and forzvard.) 

Peavy (alarmed). Hold on, hold on. I got to see the 
postmaster. (Exit R.) 

Birdie. Goldie, you're a regular hero. (Extends both 
arms.) 



42 CAHL service. 

GoLDiE. Birdie, Birdie, come on home and roost. {Ex- 
tends arms. Birdie runs toward him.) 

Enter Inspector Cochran frotn L. 

Cochran. Here, here! 

GoLDiE. Darn it ! 

Cochran. \A'hat's going on here? 

GoLDiE (sparring at him as before). Come on and fight. 
Come on and fight. 

Cochran. What's the matter with you ? Are you crazy ? 

GoLDiE. Say, who are you? 

Cochran. I'm the postoffice inspector. 

GoLDiE (comically). Goodnight! Come on. Birdie we'll 
eat our lunch in front. 

Birdie. Out in the snow? 

GoLDiE. What's the difference. Here's where I lose my 
job. Come on. (Start L. icifh Birdie, she protesting.) 

Cochran. Where's the postmaster? 

Goldie. In the office. 

Enter Mrs. J. She bumps info Goldie, 7vho is about to 
exit L. zvith Birdie. 

Mrs. J. What are you trying to do? Murder me? 

Goldie. Say, you let me alone. My fightin' blood is up. 
(Spars at her.) 

Mrs. J. (hits 1dm with umbrella). There, take that. I 
want to see the postmaster. 

Goldie. Can't be did. He's locking up. And this is a 
half holiday. (Exits L. zvith Birdie.) 

Mrs. J. I don't care what he's doing. I'm going to see 
him, and I don't want no back talk. I'm going to have 
every man in this postoffice arrested from the postmaster 
down. I've been robbed. 

Cochran (quickly). AA'hat's that? 

Mrs. J. (at L. C). I've been robbed. Robbed right 
here in this postoffice. 

Cochran. Wliat do you mean? 

Mrs. J. I mailed a letter last week and I put two fifty- 
dollar bills in it. It was to the McChesney Real Estate 
Company at Milford. Well, they got the letter, but my 



CTVTT. SERVICE. 43 

hundred dollars had hecn taken out. ivighl here in this 
postotliee. I'm going to write to the Congressman. I'm 
going to write to the JVesidcnt. I'm going to have the 
whole office force arrested. ( /;; front of chair at L.) 

Cochran. Sit down. 

Mrs. J. Sit down ? Say, do you know who you are 
talking to? 

Cochran (loudly). Sit down. 

Mrs. J. (sits). I'm down. 

Cochran. Now, what's your name? 

Mrs. J. Mrs. T. R. Jeffs. My husband is connected 
with the National Bank, he's a member of tlie City Council 
and the Chief Imperial Potentate of the Woodenmen of the 
World. 

Cochran. You say you mailed a letter last week con- 
taining a hundred dollars? 

Mrs. J. Yes. Two fifty-dollar bills. 

Cochran. Was it registered? 

Mrs. J. No, sir. 

Cochran. Why not? 

Mrs. J. I wasn't going to pay the ten cents extra to 
register it. I didn't think it was necessary, and that's just 
what I told Jake Reynolds. I says to him, says I — 

Cochran. What day did you mail the letter? 

Mrs. J. I think it was a Saturday. Or maybe on a 
Monday or Tuesday. (Thinks.) Still it might 'a been on 
Wednesday, or the Thursday or Friday before. I never 
was no hand fer remembering dates. 

Cochran (making notes in small book). Was it mailed 
before Christmas ? 

Mrs. J. No, sir ; afterw^ards. Two days after Christmas. 

Cochran (making note). On Saturday, then. 

Mrs. J. Yes. sir. 

Cochran. Did you mail the letter on the street? 

Mrs. J. No, sir. I mailed it right here in this room. 
I put it there in that box myself. 

Cochran. Then none of the city carriers had anything 
to do with it. Ah, ha ! That narrows the case. How did 
you happen to mail it here? 



44 Cf\'IL SERVICE. 

Mrs. J. Because I ^vas afraid I might lose the hundred 
dollars. {Half cries.) And now I've lost it. And Theo- 
dore will blame it all on me. {Cries.) I brought it to the 
postmaster, and wanted him to take charge of it. But he 
insulted me. He c-called m-me an old, an old g-g-gobbler. 

Cochran. Who saw you mail the letter? 

Mrs. J. The young fellow who sells the special de- 
liveries. 

Cochran. Mr. Audaine? 

Mrs. J. Yes, that's him. But I'm sure he ain't the one. 
He's too good looking. I know he wouldn't take a cent. 

Cochran. Who else knew about the hundred dollars? 

Mrs. J. The postmaster, and that red-headed imp who 
tried to assault and batter me just now. And he said I 
was an old gobbler, too. I never see such an insulting 
postoffice. I ain't casting no suspicions, Mr. Inspector, but 
I feel certain sure that he's the one who took my money. 

Cochran. You mean Mr. Wex? 

Mrs. J. I don't know whether he's a Wex or not, but 
I'll bet a doughnut he's a skallywag. I never did like red- 
headed men no how. 

Cochran. Was there anyone else around when you 
mailed the letter? 

Mrs. J. I ain't sure. 

Cochran, \^^as Miss Kenyon. here? 

Mrs. J. I don't remember. Maybe she was, but I 
wouldn't swear to it. 

Cochran. M^as Mr. Peavy here? 

Mrs. J. No, he wasn't. He was shooting craps in the 
grocery store. I saw him on my way home. 

Cochran. Do you know Mr. Audaine very well? 

Mrs. J. Not so very well. But I know he didn't take 
my money. Why, he moves with the best society in town. 
Folks say he's going to marry the postmaster's daughter. 
He gives her the loveliest presents. Their hired girl told 
my daughter Toosy that he give her a di'mond necklace for 
a birthday present. 

Cochran (w/if/i closed lips, signifying suspicion). Um-um ! 

Mrs. J- But that red-headed imp is a new man here in 



CIVIL SERVICE. 45 

town. I got my suspicions about liini. On Monday morn- 
ing be put eigbty dollars in tbe bank. 

Cochran. How do you know tbat? 

Mrs. J. My busband said so. He works in tbe bank. 

Cochran (making notes). So Wex deposited eigbty 
dollars on Monday, did be ? 

Mrs. J. Yes, be did. And wbere did be git it? That's 
what I want to know. Wbere did be git? (Rises.) 

Cochran. That's just what I am going to find out. Tbat 
will be all, Mrs. Jeffs. 

Mrs. J- Can you send me my hundred dollars this after- 
noon ? 

Cochran. I'm afraid not. But I'll do the best I can. 

Mrs. J. You'd better. Or I'll have every man in the 
hull postoffice arrested, from tbe postmaster down. 

Cochran. I'll probably send for you later. Now, go 
home and don't worry. And above all, don't tell a soul 
about this matter. 

Mrs. J. All right. I'll do as you say. (Goes to door at 
L.) But I ain't goin' to lose a cent of tbat money. Even 
if I have to write to tbe President. I ain't a goin' to lose 
a cent. (Exit L.) 

Enter Reynolds from R. 

Reynolds. Why, hello, Cochran. Glad to see you, 
(SJiakes hands.) No work this afternoon. Just got orders 
to close the office for half a day. 

Cochran. Yes, I heard about it. 
• Reynolds. Come and join me for lunch. \\'^e'll go out 
to tbe Country Club. 

Cochran. I don't think we'll have time for lunch, Rey- 
nolds. I guess you and I'll be pretty busy this afternoon. 

REYNOUiS (astonished). Busy? What d' y' mean? 

Cochran (seriously). I mean tbat you have a thief here 
in your ofifice. 

Reynolds (astounded). A thief in my office? 

Cochran. Yes. Pretty bad case. A hundred dollars 
has been taken from a letter. It looks pretty bad. 

Reynolds (gives a low ivhistle of surprise). 



46 CIVIL SERVICE. 

Cochran. Mrs. T. R. Jeffs has filed a complaint. 

Reynolds. I know her. I remember her mailing a let- 
ter containing that amount. 

Cochran. Well, someone here in the office has taken it. 

Reynolds. But who? 

Cochran. That's what we are going to find out this 
afternoon. 

Reynolds (thinking). She mailed the letter last Satur- 
day. Mailed it in here. 

Cochran. That lets all the carriers out. 

Reynolds. Yes, it does. 

Cochran. Who saw her mail it? Who saw the money? 

Reynolds. I'm not sure, but I think the new substitute, 
Goldie W^ex, was here, and Steve Audaine. I don't remem- 
ber whether Miss Kenyon was here or not. That was the 
day she got back home. 

Cochran. Who is this new substitute, Wex ? 

Reynolds. A green country boy, right off the farm. 

Cochran. Um-um. Maybe he ain't as green as he looks. 
How about Steve Audaine? 

Reynolds. As honest as the day is long. Steve wouldn't 
touch a cent. 

Cochran. Sure. 

Reynolds. Perfectly. 

Cochran. How long has he worked here? 

Reynolds. About four years. 

Cochran. Wh.ere'd he come from? 

Reynolds. He worked in the railroad shops before he 
entered the service. Miss Kenyon took an interest in him. 
He went to night school, and she helped him pass his ex- 
amination. 

Cochran. Did this letter pass through his hands? 

Reynolds. I don't know. 

Cochran. Has he got any bad habits ? 

Reynolds. I don't think so. He's one of the most 
popular boys in town. 

Cochran. Does he live within his means? 

Reynolds (hesitates). Well — er — 



CIVIL SERVICE. 



47 



Come on. Conic clean. Does he, 



I don't know. 
He's a pretty good spender, ain't he? 

I bcHeve he has that reputation. 
I understand he is very attentive to your 



Cochran (bullying) 
or don't he? 
Reynolds 
Cochran. 
Reynolds 
Cochran. 
dau.s^hter. 

Reynolds. Oh, they're good friends, that's all Octavia 
is engaged to a young man in the city. 

Cochran. And now, how about this new boy Wex ? 
How long has he been here ? ,.^, 

Reynolds. He came to work last Satinxlay. 
Cochran. Ah, ha! (Makes note.) On the very day 
the money was taken. 
Reynolds. That's right. 

Has he any money? 
Not much. 

He isn't paid in advance, is he? 
No, sir. 

Are his people wealthy? 
I think not. 
And yet he placed eighty dollars in the bank 



Cochran. 
Reynolds. 
Cochran. 
Reynolds. 
Cochran. 
Reynolds. 
Cochran. 
on Monday. 
Reynolds. 
Cochran. 
Reynolds. 



He did? 

I guess he's our man, Reynolds. 
It doesn't seem possible, and yet — 
Cochran (inipatienfly) . Well, someone took that money. 
You don't suspect Miss Kenyon, do you? 

Reynolds. Good Heavens, no! I'd as soon suspect my 
own daughter. 

Cochran. Any of your men bothered with collectors? 
I don't know. 

Ever have any collectors call here? 
Yes. A- Miss Goldstein was here last Satur- 



Reynolds. 
Cochran. 
Reynolds. 
day. 

Cochran. 
Reynolds. 
Cochran. 
Reynolds. 



Um-um! Who was she looking for? 

I don't know. I saw her as she went out. 
I wonder if she was after this young Wex. 

I don't know. 



48 dviL 



SERVICE. 



Cochran. Where is her office? 

Reynolds. Just across the square. 

Cochran. Get your hat. We'll go over and see her. 

Reynolds. All right. {Gets hat and overcoat.) This 
is a bad business. 

Cochran. We'll get him all right. I think I could put 
my hand on the thief this minute. 

Enter Goldie and Birdie from L. 

GoLDiE {to postmaster). Say, boss, me and my girl's 
goin' to the moving-picture show this afternoon. You don't 
need me no more, do you ? 

Cochran. Yes, we do. 

GoLDiE. Oh, darn. Say, this is a half holiday. 

Cochran. I guess we won't take a holiday today. 

GoLDiE. I ain't goin' to work on no holidays. I'm goin' 
to the picture show. 

Cochran. Oh, no, you ain't. 

GoLDiE. Say, you ain't my boss. 

Reynolds. Wex, this is the Inspector. 

GoLDiE. I don't give a hang if he is. I'm going to re- 
sign. I don't like this job no hoAv. I'm going back on the 
farm — me and Birdie. 

Cochran. You stay here till we come back. Under- 
stand? (Loud.) You stay here. You're to do as I say. 
Understand ? 

Goldie. Yes, sir. Darn it. I wish't I was back on the 
farm. 

Cochran. Come on, Reynolds. {Exit L. followed by 
Reynolds.) 

Goldie. Gee, that man sure is bossy. I wish't I was 
back on the farm. 

Birdie. Ain't we goin' to git to go to the movies at all ? 

Goldie. How do I know? More'n likely that old in- 
spector'll make me scrub out the whole darned postoffice. 
I don't see what he has to come buttin' in fer. Sit down. 
Birdie, and rest your feet. 

Birdie {sits at R.). Ain't no fun sittin' down here. 
And they've got a perfectly splendiferous show on this 



CIVIL SERVICE. 49 

afternoon at the movies. "Blue-Blooded Mike, the Terror 
of Dead Man's Gulch." Gee, this is tough luck. 

Enter Kate and R. F. D. froni L. 

Kate. That certainly was a fine ride. (Rctnorcs hat 
and coat.) 

R. F. D. Say, you ain't going to work this afternoon, 
are you, little princess? 

Kate. Not much. Just a few accounts to balance. 
Then we'll take another ride. 

R. F. D. I'll go down and look at the furnace. (Exits R.) 

Kate. What are you doing here, Goldie. 

GoLDiE. Inspector ordered me to wait here till he comes 
back. 

Kate {alarmed). The inspector? Is he here? 

GoLDiE. Yep. Darn him. \\'e have to work, even on 
a half holiday. Gee, I wish't I was back on the farm. 

Kate. I wonder what the inspector is doing here? 

Goldie. Jest buttin' in, that's what he is doing. Won't 
give me and my girl a chance to go to the movies. 

Enter Steve Audaine from L. 

Kate. Feel better, Steve? 

Steve {hanging up coat and hat). Yes, Kate. Every- 
thing is all right. I feel better now than I have been for 
months. 

Kate. I'm so glad. {Works at hooks at L.) 

Goldie. Hello, Steve. Let me make you acquainted 
with my lady friend, Miss Birdie Bivins. 

Steve {at C). Pleased to meet you. Miss Bivins. 

Birdie {giggles). Much obliged. {To Goldie.) Ain't 
he the sweetest thing. 

Goldie {szvells up chest, struts across R.). Oh, I don't 
know. There are others ; there are others ! 

Enter Cochran and Reynolds froiu L. 

Kate. Good afternoon, Mr. Cochran. 
Cochran. Afternoon, Miss Kenyon. How do you do, 
Steve? 

Steve. How do you do, Inspector. 



so CIVIL SERVICE. 

Cochran. I'm going to use this room for a little while. 
Kate, you and Steve can work in the postmaster's private 
office. 

Kate (rises, gathers up work). Yes, sir. (Exit R.) 

Cochran. I'll want you presently, Steve. 

Steve (frightened). Yes, sir. I'll be in there. (Exits R.) 

GoLDiE. Come on. Birdie. Now I guess we can go to 
the movies. 

Cochran. I guess you can't. Young man, you wait right 
here. 

Birdie. And what'll I be doing? 

Cochran. You can wait, too. 

GoLDiE. No, sir. I ain't goin' to wait no longer. I'm 
going out for a holiday. 

Cochran. If you go out, you'll go with a policeman. 
You are under arrest. 

GoLDiE. Arrest? 

Cochran. That's what I said. 

GoLDiE. Aw, you're kiddin' me. You ain't no ])olice- 
man. 

Birdie. Oh, Goldie, what have you been and gone and 
ilone? 

GoLDiE. I ain't done nothin'. 

Cochran. Go in there and wait, young woman. I'll 
call you when I want you. 

Birdie. What must I do, Goldie? 

GoLDiE. Go on in and wait. An don't let 'em skeer 
you. I ain't skeerd. 

Birdie. Oh, Goldie, are you arrested fer sure enough? 

Goldie. Naw, there ain't nothin' to it. Go on and wait. 

Birdie. All right, Goldie. (Exits R.) 

Cochran (seated at L. smoking cigar). Come here, 
young man. 

Goldie. Yes, sir. (Crosses to L. and sits.) 

Cochran (savagely). Stand up. 

Goldie. Yes, sir. (Stands.) 

Reynolds sits at rear. 
Cochran. Now, what did you do with the money? 



CIVIL SERVICE. 51 

GoLDiE. What money? 

Cochran (loudly). The money you stole. The two 
fifty-dollar bills you took from that letter. 

GoLDiE. I never took no two fifty-dollar bills from no 
letter. 

Cochran. Don't lie to me. We've got the goods on 
you. Understand? We've got you just where we want 
you. 

GoLDiE. I ain't no thief. I never took no money. 

Cochran (saz'agcly). Don't He to me. I want you to 
tell the truth. And you're going to tell it. Understand? 
You're going to confess the whole thing before you get 
out of this room. 

GoLDiE. I ain't got nothin' to confess. 

Cochran. You saw Mrs. Jefifs put that money in the 
letter, didn't you? 

GoLDiE. No, sir; I didn't. 

Cochran. You saw her mail the letter. We know you 
did. And we know you took that letter and took out those 
bills. I ain't got all day to fool with this case. The best 
thing you can do is to come clean. Understand? 

GoLDiE. I never took no money. 

Cochran (asks questions rapidly). What's your name? 

GoLDiE. Goldie Wex. 

Cochran. How long you worked here? 

Goldie. Since last Saturday. 

Cochran. What day was the money stolen? 

Goldie. I don't know. 

Cochran. Yes, you do. It was stolen on Saturday. 
Understand? That money was stolen on the very day you 
came here to work. 

Goldie. I can't help that. I never stole no money. 

Cochran. Did you ever steal anything else? 

Goldie. No, sir. Nothin' but apples and things like 
that. 

Cochran (to Reynolds). You hear him. He admits 
being a thief. He says he is a thief. 

Goldie. I don't neither. I only stole some apples out 



52 CIVIL SERVICE. 

in the country. Every boy does that. That hain't bein' 
no thief. 

Cochran. If you stole apples you would steal money. 
Now, you did steal those bills from that letter, didn't you ? 

GoLDiE. No, sir, I did not. 

Cochran. Ever been arrested before? 

GoLDiE. No, sir. 

Cochran. Have you had any money since you've worked 
here ? 

GoLDiE. No, sir. 

Cochran. You lie. You deposited eighty dollars in the 
bank on Monday morning. Didn't you? 

GoLDiE (confused). Yes. sir. You see, it was this 
way — 

Cochran. That'll do. I've caught you in a lie. You 
are a liar as well as a thief. You stole a hundred dollars 
and put eighty in the bank. What did you do with the 
rest of the money? 

GoLDiE. I never stole nothin'. My paw give me that 
eighty dollars. 

Cochran. Don't try to lie any more. It won't do you 
no good. The best thing for you to do is to make a full 
confession. That'll save us all a lot of trouble. Under- 
stand ? We've got the goods on you, but we want a con- 
fession. 

GoLDiE. I ain't goin' to make no confession. I never 
stole nothin'. 

Cochran. We know you put eighty dollars in the bank- 
on Monday morning. 

GoLDiE. I did. My paw sold a brown heifer and a 
couple of old sows and give me the money. That's where 
the eighty dollars come from. 

Cochran. AA'hy did you wait till Monday morning to 
put it in the bank? 

GoLDiE. I don't know. 

Cochran. I know. Because you didn't have it till Sat- 
urady. You didn't get a chance to steal from the postoffice 
until Saturday. Now, for the last time, are you goin' to 
make a confession? Come on, now. Are you? For the 



CIVIL SERVICE. S3 

last time? If you don't, it's the county jail for yours. 
The marshal is waiting outside. Come on now. For the 
last time. I'm givin' you your last chance? 

GoLDiE. I won't confess to notliin' I didn't do. I never 
stole no money. Honest, I never stole nothin'. 

Cochran. That'll do. Stand over there. (Points to 
rear C.) 

GoLDiE. Are you going to put me in jail? 

Cochran. Shut up. I gave you your chance — and you 
didn't take it. It's all up with you. Reynolds, call in the 
others. (Exit Reynolds at R.) 

GoLDiE (cries). Oh, gee, I wislv't T was back on the 
farm. 

Enter Reynolds from R. zvith Kate, Steve, Birdie, 
Peavy and R. F. D, Kate and Steve come dozvn R. 
R. F. D. and Birdie go to Goldie. Peavy and Reynolds 
up L. Cochran still seated down L., smoking stump of 
cigar. 

Cochran. Peavy, come here. 

Peavy. Yes, sir. (Goes to C. quickly.) 

Cochran. Do you know this man, Wex? 

Peavy. Yes, sir. 

Cochran. Know anything about his habits? 

Peavy. Well, he's kinder quarrelsome. Always trying 
to pick a scrap. 

Cochran. Does he spend much money? 

Peavy. I don't know. 

Cochran. Ever try to l^orrow any money from you? 

Peavy. No, sir. 

Cochran. Did anyone on tlie force ever try to borrow 
any money from you? 

Peavy. Yes, sir. 

Cochran. Who was it? 

Peavy. Mr. Audaine. 

Cochran. Hum-hum ! Did you lend it to him. 

Peavy. Yes, sir. 

Cochran. How much? 



54 CIVIL SERVICE. 

Peavy. Ninety-eight dollars. It's been running since 
the first of November. 

Cochran. Has he paid anything yet? 

Peavy. Yes, sir. He paid me twenty dollars last Sat- 
urday afternoon. 

Cochran (calmly). That'll do. (Peavy joins Rey- 
nolds.) Miss Kenyon. 

Kate. Yes, sir. (Comes to C.) 

Cochran. Anyone on the force ever borrow anything 
from you ? 

Kate (faintly). No, sir. 

Cochran. I might as well tell you all that there has 
been a robbery committed in this postoffice. On last Sat- 
urday morning two fifty dollar bills Avere taken from a 
letter. Do you know anything about it? 

Kate (zuorried). No, sir. I don't think I do. 

Cochran (savagely). What d'ye mean, don't think you 
do? Do you or don't you? 

Kate. No, sir ; I don't. 

Cochran. Have you any idea who took that money? 

Kate (staggers slightly). 

Cochran. What's the matter with you? 

Kate. I feel faint. May I have some water? (Exit 
R. R D. at R.) 

Cochran, ^^''hat do you want with water? Come on, 
now, I want the truth. Understand? Do you suspect any- 
one? 

Kate. I — oh, Mr. Cochran — I — (staggers). 

Enter R. F. D. bearing glass of zvater. 

(Note: This glass must be thin, to shatter easily. R. F. 
D. goes to Kate and gives her a drink. He then returns 
to C at rear, standmg ivith the glass in his hand.) 

Cochran. I don't want to be hard on you. Miss Ken- 
yon. No one suspects you. I guess we know where the 
thief is all right, all right. That'll do. Miss Kenyon. 
(Kate goes to R.) Mr. Audaine! 

Steve (comes to C). Yes, sir. 

Cochran. Know anything about this case? 



CIVIL SERVICE. 55 

Steve. No, sir. 

Cochran (loudly). You lie, Steve Audaiiie! You stole 
that hundred dollars! 

Steve. I — I — I — 

Cochran. You saw Mrs. Jeffs put that letter in that box. 
You heard her say she put a hundred dollars in it. You've 
been squandering your money for the past two months. 
You were in debt up to your neck. You stole that letter. 
You opened it. You stole that hundred dollars ! 

Steve. I did not. 

Cochran. You did ! Where did you get the money to 
pay Peavy that twenty dollars? Where did you get the 
money to make a payment to Miss Goldstein? We've got 
you. Understand ? We've got you ! 

Steve. It's all a mistake. I never took the money. 

Kate. No, no. Steve. (Sinks in chair at R.) 

Steve (goes to her). Kate, Kate, you don't believe this, 
do you? 

Cochran (at L.). Young man, I'm sorry for you. 
You've had a hard life. Now the thing for you to do is 
to come clean and confess. Let me see. You came from 
the orphan asylum, didn't you? 

Steve (lozv voice). Yes, sir. 

Cochran. Know who your father or mother are? 

Steve (at R.). No, sir. 

Cochran. Don't even know your real name, do you? 

Steve. Yes, sir. My real name is Ira Troutman. 
(R. F. D. at C. rear drops i^lass to floor, where it shatters. 
All look at hint. He trembles. Collects himself. Conies 
doivn C. and looks appealingly at Cochran.) 

R. F. D. Don't go no further, Inspector. That boy 
never stole the money. I'm the man you want. I'm the 
thief. I stole that hundred dollars. 

All. You ? 

R. F. D. Yes, my record's agin me. I spent fifteen 
years in prison for stealing from a postoffice. The temp- 
tation was too strong. Take me away, Inspector. Take 
me away. 

Tableau and Slow Curtain. 



56 Civil service. 



Act III. 



Same scene as Acts I and II. Time, six o'clock the next 
morning. Slozu, sad music at the rise of the curtain. 
Cochran discovered seated at L. smoking a cigar stump. 
After curtain is zvell up there is a slight pause, then the 
clock strikes six. 

Cochran (starts, looks at the clock, looks at his zvatch). 
Six o'clock. Time for breakfast. The old man hasn't 
slept a wink all night. Poor devil. This'll mean five years 
for him and he'll never live to get his liberty. What fools 
some men are — and all for a paltry hundred dollars. 
(Knock heard at door L.) Come in. 

Enter Goldie and Birdie from L. They come dotvn C, 
Birdie carrying a lunch basket. 

Birdie. Good morning, mister. 
■Cochran (shortly). Mornin'. 

GoLDiE. We've brought some breakfast over for Mr. 
R. F. 

Cochran. All right. 

GoLDiE. Can we see him? 

Cochran. What you want to see him for? 

Birdie. To tell him how sorry we are for him. Poor 
old man. Just think, Goldie, it might 'a been you. 

GoLDiE. Yes. it might. Durn you. Inspector, if it hadn't 
a been fer my lady friend here, I'd a come over this mornin' 
and told you what I thought of you. You knowed all the 
time I never took that money. 

Cochran. Well, this ought to be a lesson to you, young 
man. 

GoLDiE. It was. I'm resigned right now. I'm goin' 
to git married. Me and Birdie. 

Birdie. Now^ Goldie, hush. This yere man don't want 
to hear none of our private matrimonial afifairs. 

Goldie. And we're goin' back to live on the farm. 

Cochran. That's the best thing you can do. I'm afraid 
you never was cut out for a city man, ^^^ex. 



CIVIL SERVICE. 57 

GoLDiE. Oh, I guess I could be if I wanted to. 

Birdie. Of course you could. You could be anything 
you wanted to be, Goldie. I think you are simply perfect. 

GoLDiE. Is Mr. R. F. got up yet? 

Cochran. Yes, he's in there. You can go right in. 

Goldie. Much obliged. Come on. Birdie. (Exit R.) 

Birdie. Yes. darling. I'm a comin'. (Exit R.) 

Cochran. He's going to marry the girl he loves. He 
don't know how lucky he is. 

Enter Reynolds from R. 

Reynolds. Morning, Cochran. 

Cochran. You're up pretty early for Sunday morning. 

Re^'NOlds. What kind of a night did R. F. pass? 

Cochran. He didn't sleep a wink. The marshal said 
he just sat still the whole night through. It's pretty tough 
on the old man, Reynolds. Five years. Too bad ; too bad. 

Reynolds. He is nearly seventy years old and he is an 
old soldier. If he is sent up for five years, he'll die before 
next Christmas. And I don't believe he stole that money. 

Cochran. What's that? 

Reynolds. I think he's crazy. Or maybe he's trying 
to shield some one else. 

Cochran. Nonsense. Men don't go to prison for five 
years to shield some one else. That only happens in 
novels. 

Reynolds. What is he doing now? 

Cochran. Wex is in there with some breakfast for 
him. 

Reynolds. I won't go in, then. I'll come over later. 

Enter Kate from L. 

Kate. Mr. Reynolds. I've been looking for you. I 
went to your house and they told me you'd come over here. 

Cochran. Morning, Miss Kenyon. 

Kate. Good morning. 

Cochran. I'll just step in the next room. (Exit R.) 

Revnoi,ds. What do you want, Kate? 

Kate. I have one hundred and fifty dollars in the bank. 
See, here is my book showing that much to my credit. But 



58 5lVIL SERVICE. 

this is Sunday and I can't draw it out. I want you to cash 
a check for me for one hundred and fifty dollars. 

Reynolds. Why. I haven't that much here. If you'll 
come up to the house I can get it for you. 

Kate. Thank you. 

Reynolds. But why do you want it today? Why not 
wait until tomorrow? 

Kate. Please don't ask any questions, Mr. Reynolds. 
Please. 

Reynolds. All right. If there's anyone in the world 
that is worthy of trust, Kate Kenyon, you are that person. 
Come on. (Exit L.) 

Kate. Thank you. (Follozvs him off L.) 

Enter Cochran from R. foUozvcd by Goldie and Birdie. 

Cochran (coming down L.). I think I'll go out to 
breakfast. 

Birdie (dozvn R.). Poor old man; wouldn't eat a bite. 
It's too bad, and I brung him some roast pork sandwiches, 
and dried apple pie, and a hull pickled pig's foot. And 
he couldn't eat a bite. 

Goldie (dozvn C). And just think, Birdie, it might 'a 
been me in there with handcufifs on my hands all ready 
to go to prison. 

Birdie. Oh, don't, Goldie! If they'd -a took you off to 
prison it would have broke my heart in two. 

Goldie (crosses to Cochran). Say, Mr. Inspector, I 
want to ask you a question. 

Cochran. All right ; go ahead. 

Goldie. You're an officer of the law, ain't you? 

Cochran. Something like that. 

Goldie. Well, then, how much does it cost to get a 
license? (Giggles.) That's what I want to know. 

Birdie (close to Goldie, at his R.). Yes, sir; that's what 
we wants to know. (Giggles basli fully.) 

Cochran. A license? What kind of a license? A dog 
license ? 

Birdie. No, sir. We ain't no dogs. A wedding license. 

Cochran. Oh, a wedding license. 



CIVIL SERVICE. 59 

GoLDiE. Yes, sir. We're going to buy one of them 
things and git married with it, just like other folks. 

Cochran. It'll cost you about two dollars. 

GoLDiE. Two dollars ? Gee whiz ! Kinder expensive, 
ain't it? Well, dog gone it. Birdie's worth two dollars. 
I'd git one if it cost as much as two fiftv 

Birdie. That's right. What's two dollars, Goldie? 

GoLDiE. Now, don't you git extravagant notions, or I 
won't git married to you at all. I ain't no millionaire. 

Birdie. I know a feller that works over at the Court 
House. He's the second janitor. Maybe he kin git us a 
license at a reduction. Come on, Goldie. I got to wait 
on table fer breakfast. We can't stay here all day. (Takes 
his arm.) 

Gor.DiE. We'll see you later, Inspector. 

Birdie. Here ; you carry this basket. 

Goldie. That's just the way. I might as well be a 
married man already. (They go out L. arm in arm.) 

Cochran (seated at L.)."A pair of young fools, and 

yet they have found the greatest thing in all the world — 

love, happiness and a home. (Muses.) The greatest thing 

in all the world. . j. 

hnfer Kate from L. 

Kate (comes dozvn C.) . Mr. Cochran, I want to speik 
to you. 

Cochran (rises). Yes, Miss Kate, and I want to speak 
to you. (Takes off hat and throzvs cis^ar in cuspidor.) 

Kate. How is R. F. this morning? The poor old man. 

Cochran. He's as well as you could expect. 

Kate. Isn't there any way out of this for him? 

Cochran. Nothin' doing. He committed a crime, made 
a confession, and '11 have to suffer the penalty. 

Kate. What is the penalty? 

Cochran. He'll get about five years. 

Kate. Five years in the penitentiary. It is horrible. 
He is an old man. He'll never live to have his liberty, 

Cochran. He ought to have thought of that before he 
robbed the government mail. Say, Miss Kate, will vo\i 
marrv me? 



60 CIVIL SERVICE. 

Kate (astounded). What? 

Cochran. 1 said, will you marry me? 

Kate. Marry you? ^^'l^y, Mr. Cochran, is that a conun- 
drum or a joke? 

Cochran. It ain't either. It's a serious proposition. 
I've been in love with you for three years, ever since I first 
saw you. I don't oiTer you a boy's love. I bring you the 
devotion of a lifetime. True love comes only once to a 
man, Kate, and it has come to me. 

Kate. I'm so surprised. Mr. Cochran. I never dreamed 
anything like this. I never knew you cared for me 

Cochran. You've had ,a pretty hard life, Kate. Every 
woman does who has to work for her own living. Maybe 
I could make things easier for you. I make a pretty good 
salary, and I ain't home much. 

Kate. You have done me a great honor, Mr. Cochran. 
The greatest honor any man can do to a woman. But — 
(pauses). 

Cochran (softly). But — ■ 

Kate. I'm afraid — (pauses). 

Cochran. You can't accept my ofifer? I'm sorry. 

Kate. And so am I, for I feel sure that you are a good, 
honorable man. 

Cochran. But can't you give me a trial. Don't answer 
now. Let me come back in a couple of months — 

Kate (sadly). It wouldn't be any use. 

Cochran. Is there some one else? 

Kate. I— I— 

Cochran (controls h'nnself with difficulty). I see. That's 
enough. He's a lucky man. Miss Kate. I hope you will be 
very happy. 

Kate. You don't understand. I never intend to marry 
anyone. 

Cochran. What? 

Kate. No, Mr. Cochran. The man I care for doesn't 
care for me. So, you see — 

Cochran. Yes, I see. Isn't there a chance for me, 
then ? You'd better marry a man who loves you than marry 
a man you love. 



CIVIL SERVICE. 61 

Kate. Oh, I can't; I can't. Please, Mr. Cochran. 

CociiKAN. All right. But if you ever need a friend. 
Miss Kate, no matter what happens, no matter what goes 
wrong, remember that there is one man in the world who 
believes in you, and who would come from the other end 
of the earth to help you. 

Kate, ^'ou are so good. 

Cochran. Good? Me? Hell, no. I ain't good. I'm 
just a plum fool ; that's all. Just a plum fool. 

Kate. You're a true and upright man. This is the 
proudest moment in my life, Mr. Cochran, when you asked 
me to become your wife. 

Cochran. Yes, but you wouldn't do it. 

Kate. I couldn't. But I will always look upon you as 
one of my best and closest friends. 

Cochran. That's right, Miss Kenyon ; that's just what 
I'm going to be. 

Kate. Would it be possible for me to see R. F. for a 
few minutes? 

Cochran. Why, of course. He's in there. 

Kate. Thank you. (Starts to door, turns at door. 
Comes hack to Cochran at C.) Mr. Cochran. 

Cochran. Yes ? 

Kate. R. F. D. never stole that money. TTe is innocent. 

Cochran. What d' y' mean? 

Kate. I have the hundred dollars here. (Slioivs t7vo 
fifty dollar bills.) 

Cochran. \\'here did you get it? 

Kate. I — I- — if the money is paid back to Mrs. Jeffs, 
wouldn't it be possible to let the whole matter drop? 

Cochran. Let the matter drop? Impossible. 

Kate. But the money would have been paid back. No 
one would lose anything. Why should it be necessary to 
send this old man to the penitentiary, to his death, when 
everybody would be satisfied without? 

Cochran. That wouldn't be justice. 
. Kate. It would be mercy. And mercy is higher than 
justice. 

Cochran. Where did vou get that hundred dollars? 



62 CIVIL SERVICE. 

(Pause.) Come on. Tell me. Are those the bills that were 
taken from that envelope? Is this the money that was 
stolen ? 

Kate. Mr. Cochran, you just told me that whenever I 
needed a friend to come to you. I take you at your word. 
Now is the time. I do need a friend. Oh, I do ! Take this 
money, Mr. Cochran ; give it to Mrs. Jefifs and let this 
poor old man go free. 

Cochran (hesitates, then straightens up and speaks de- 
cisively) . You don't realize what you are asking. My 
sworn duty to the government — 

Kate (persistently). But R. F. D. isn't guilty. He never 
stole that money. 

Cochran. He confessed. 

Kate. He made that confession to shield some one else. 

Cochran. How do you know that? 

Kate. Because — because — oh, don't you see? Can't you 
understand ? 

Cochran. My God ! Kate Kenyon, did you take that 
money ? 

Kate (looks at him, sinks in chair, bozvs head and 
zveeps). 

Cochran (astounded). A thief? You — a thief? Oh, I 
don't believe it. (Back to audience.) I can't believe it. 
(Boivs head.) 

Kate. You said you loved me. 

Cochran. And so I do. But there is one thing higher 
than love, Kate, and that is duty. I've got to do my duty. 

Kate (rises). Then I am ready. Mr. Cochran, do your 
duty. (Pronounced pause. He standing with back to audi- 
ence, she zuith her arms held imploringly tozvard him.) 

Cochran (turns, comes to her). Miss Kenyon. will you 
be my wife? 

Kate (surprised) . Your wife? 

Cochran. You need me now as you never have needed 
me before. No matter what you have done, in spite of this 
thing, in spite of all the world, I love you. Let me help 
you. \y\\\ you be mv wife? 



CIVIL SKRVICE. 63 

Kate. You think me a thief and yet you are wilHng to 
make me your wife? 

Cochran. Everyone makes mistakes. I don't love you 
for what you have done. I love you because you are you. 
There isn't a man or a woman living whi^ hasn't done 
things that would have been better left undone. I know 
you will do rit^ht from now on. Let me help you. That's 
all I want. You need me. Let me help you. 

Enter R. F. D. from R. 

R. F. D. Little Princess, I knowed you'd come ; I 
knowed you'd come. 

Cochran (crosses to R.). Think over what I have said. 
Miss Kate. And when you want me. I will be ready for 
you. (Exit R.) 

Kate (eoiiifortliig R. F.). Oh, R. F., I am so sorry. I 
am so sorry. 

R. F. D. Now. don't you take on. little princess. It's 
all for the best. The Lord is good. I put my trust in him. 

Kate. But why did you confess. R. F. ? Why did you 
take all the burden of this crime upon yourself? 

R. F. D. I was tempted and I fell. T wanted the money. 

Kate. You never stole that money. 

R. F. D. Princess! 

Kate. You are assuming the guilt of another. You are 
willing to go to prison, that the guilty man shall go free. 
You are giving up your liberty, you are giving up your 
very life, for some one else. 

R. F. D. (simply). "AMiat greater love hath a man than 
this, that he lay down his life for his friend." 

Kate. You are doing this for him — for your son — for 
Steve Audaine. 

R. F. D. Yes. little princess ; you know my secret. I 
am doing it for my boy. You recognized the name the same 
as I did. Ira Troutman. Just to think that Steve is my 
little boy ! But this must be our secret. He must never 
know. You won't tell him. Promise me that he shall 
never know that I am his father. 

Kate. But why? 



64 ^'IX'IL SERVICE. 

R. F. D. I wouldn't want my boy to know his father 
was a thief. You see, I ain't nothin ; nothin' at all. Jest 
only old R. F. D. Now, honey, you jest let things go on 
like they are. I'll go away to prison and my boy '11 never 

Enter Steve Audaine frorn L. 

Steve {at L.). R. F. ! Kate! 

Kate {at C. startled). Steve! 

Steve. I want to speak with R. F., Kate. I have some- 
thing to say to him that must be said at once. 

Kate. I understand, laddie, and I honor you for it. I 
have a plan. All may yet be well. {Cross to L.) Fll be 
back soon. Tell Mr. Cochran that Fll be back soon and 
give him his answer. {Exit L.) 

Steve {after a pause goes to R. F. D., takes Jiis hand- 
cuffed hands.) Why did you do it? 

R. F. D. There, there boy. Now, you go away and let, 
the old man alone. Fd rather not talk about it. 

Steve. I can't go away. Why have you made this sac- 
rifice for me? You know I took that money, and yet you 
said you were the thief. All through the night one word 
has rung in my ears. Go where I would, do what I 
would, I could only hear that one word. "Coward, coward, 
coward!" {Breaks down and sobs.) 

R. F. D. {putting his amis around hint). There, there, 
lad. Don't take on so. Don't ye. Don't ye. 

Steve. I was hopelessly in debt. I squandered my 
money. I was a spendthrift and I became a thief. 

R. F. D. How it all comes back to me. Sixteen years 
ago. I know, lad. I know. 

Steve. Fve been a weak, foolish boy. Now Fm a man. 
Do you think I will allow you to go to prison for my crime ? 
Do you think I could stay here with that word "Coward !" 
ringing always in my ears? I am going in there and see 
the Inspector. I am going to tell him the truth. 

R. F. D. You are not. I am an old man. boy, and I 
ain't got long to live. You — why, you got your whole life 
before you. If you w^ent to prison it Avould ruin you -for- 
ever. It ain't right. You're young and have all your 



CIVIL SERVICE. 65 

life before yoiv. Let nie go in your place. Please, lad; 
please! You stay right here and repay me. 

Steve. How could I ever repay such a sacrifice? 

R. F. D. By living straight and noble and upright. Just 
as 1 would want my own boy to live. Some time, when 
you are tempted to do wrong again, jest you think of me 
out there in the ]M"ison, praying for you, loving you and 
trusting in you. 

Steve. But why are you doing all this for me? 

R. F. D. Why? Because (simply) I am your father. 

Steve {kneels at his feet). My father! 

R. F. D. Other men give their boys good advice and 
money and a good start in life. I ain't got no money to 
give you, lad, nor no name. I ain't got nothing to give my 
boy. Only one thing — my liberty. That's what I'll give 
you, boy. My liberty. 

Steve. No, no. I'll never allow you to go back to 
prison. I have been blind. Blind to a good woman's love, 
blind to Kate Kenyon's devotion, blind to your sacrifice. 
But now I see. (Rises.) I see my duty and I'm going to 
do it. 

R. F. D. (alarmed). Where are you going? 

Steve. I am going to the Inspector. I am going to 

^ ■ Enter Cochran from R. 

Cochran. Morning, Steve. 

Steve (at L. C). Mr. Cochran, there is something I 
want to say to you. This man {points to R. F. D.) — 

Enter Kate from L. 

Kate (at L.). Steve, what are vou doing? 

R. F. D. (at R. C, to Cochran, zvho is at R.). Don't 
listen to him. Inspector. Don't listen to him. 

Kate. Mr. Cochran, I have something to say to you at 
once. I am willing to do anything — to make any sac- 

Enter Mrs. Jeffs from L. 

Mrs. J. I want to see the man who stole my money. 
All. Mrs. Jeffs! 



66 CIVIL SERVICE. 

Mrs. J. {down L.). Yes, Mrs. Jeffs. Good morning, 
Kate. 

Kate. Mr. Cochran, I want to speak to Mrs. Jeffs. 
Please, Mr. Cochran. Let me speak with her. Steve, 
R. F., don't say anything until 1 talk with Mrs. Jeffs. 
Please, Mr. Cochran, for my sake. 

Cochran. All right. Miss Kate. Come, R. F. [ExitR.) 

R. F. D. Trust in the Lord, little princess. Everything 
is bound to come out right if you only trust in Him. 
(Exit R.) 

Kate. Steve, wait for me outside. 

Steve. I am determined to do the right thing at last, 
Kate. 

Kate. I knew you would, laddie. I knew you would. 

Steve. I'll wait for you. {Exit L.) 

Kate (at C). Mrs. Jeffs, do you think R. F. D. stole 
your money? 

Mrs. J. I don't want to think so. He's such a nice old 
man, and he's an old soldier. I don't know what to think. 

Kate. If R. F. goes to prison for five years he will 
never survive his sentence. Think of that old man going 
to prison. Away from all the world — for five years. 

Mrs. J. (cries). Ain't it awful. And he's such a kind 
old man, too. 

Kate. See, Mrs. Jeff's, here is one hundred dollars. 

Mrs. J. My money? 

Kate. If your money is returned to you, you wouldn't 
send R. F. to prison. Avould you? (Pause.) Would vou? 

Mrs. J. (hesitates). AA'ell, I— 

Kate. You wouldn't — you couldn't. See, here is the 
money. Every cent of it. You vvouldn't send an old 
soldier to prison for life, would you? (Giz'es it to her.) 
Now, the life of R. F. is in your hands. 

Mrs. J. ^^llat do you want me to do? 

Kate. Do what you think is right. 

Mrs. J. I'm going to do my duty. No one can ever say 
that Mrs. T. R. Jeffs failed to do her duty. Inspector! 
Mr. Cochran! 

Kate (alarmed). No, no, Mrs. Jeffs. Have mercy! 



CIVIL SERVICE. 67 

Mrs. J. Vou mind your own business. (Louder.) In- 
spector ! 

Kate, \\hat are you going to ilo? 

Mrs. J. I am going to do what is right. {Loudly.) 
Cochran ! 

Enter Cochran from R. foUoived by R. F. D. Enter 
Steve Audaine front L. 

Cochran. Do you want me? 

Mrs. J. Yes, 1 do. Say, you got old R. F. D. there 
arrested for steaHng my money, ain't you? 

Cochran {dozvn R.). Yes. 

Mrs. J. (at C). And do you think he is the thief? Do 
you think that poor okl man took that hundred dollars? 

Cochran {looks at Kate, still suspecting her). I — I 
don't — know. 

Mrs. J. (loudly). \Xe\\ he hain't. lie never stole my 
hundred dollars, because it never was stole. 

Cochran. Never was stolen ? 

Mrs. J. I'm awfully sorry to have caused you all this 
trouble. I found my hundred dollars this morning in the 
])ocket of my new purple coat. I thought I had mailed it 
to the real estate company, but I forgot to put it in the 
letter. Nobody never stole no money at all, because T had 
it all the time. 

Cochran (se-:rrely). Are you speaking the truth? 

Mrs. J. (belligerently). Do you mean to call me a liar 
to my face? Look here. Here's the very two identical 
fifty dollar bills. Take them handcuffs ofif of that old man. 
\Miy, you ought to be ashamed of yourself. And him an 
old soldier. Now, I can go home and git my breakfast in 
peace. (Goes to door at L.. meets Steve.) Git out of 
my way. (Turns at door.) I guess that's all. I certainly 
am glad I found that money. (Exits L.) 

Cochran (removes handcuffs from R. E. D.). So she 
never lost her money, after all. (Shakes hands with R. F. 
D.) I'm mighty glad for your sake. This is a case that 
will never be reported to the Postoffice Department. 
(Conies dozvn to Kate, shakes hands ivith her.) And I'm 



C.8 

mighty glad for your sake. No matter what has happened, 
I'll always be your friend. (Shakes hands zvith Steve.) 
Boy, you're a lucky devil. (Changes voice.) Guess I'll go' 
out and get some breakfast. Good morning. (Exit L. 
with hat.) 

R. F. D. And it's all coming out all right, after all. 1 
knowed it would. Boy, we'll resign from the civil service. 
We'll all go out to Montana and be as happy as Hees on 
my little homestead. 

Steve (comes to Kate). My trouble has opened my 
eyes to the beauty and nobleness of your soul. I am going 
to redeem myself so that I may be worthy of you — so that 
I can win back your love. 

Kate. My love? Steve, do you really care for my love? 

Steve. Care for it? Kate, I realize what a fool I have 
been. All these years you have been my beacon light, my 
guiding star. Will you believe in me and wait for me and 
come to me Avhen I have proved worthy of you? 

Kate. Whenever you want me? 

R. F. D. (at R.). Why, honey, he wants you now. You 
come with us, out there in Montana in our little homestead. 
The sun is shining on a new life, and we'll all be together. 
Just we three. Me and my boy and my little princess. 

Steve. No, let me show myself an honest man, first. 

R. F. D. You ain't a dishonest man, son. You're only 
a weak boy who gave way to temptation. You need a 
strong, loving woman for a guide. You need the little 
princess. 

Steve (at L.). I do — I do. Kate, will you be my wife? 

Kate (bashfnllv). I — I think so. (He embraces her 
at C.) 

R. F. D. (at R. C). God is good, my boy. The new life 
is waiting for all of us. For me and you and our little 
princess. 

Curtain. 



DENISON'S ACTING PLAYS 

Price 15 Cents Each, Postpaid, Unless Different Price Is Given 



Docuineiitaiy Evidence, ^5 min. 1 1 

J)ude in a Cyclone, 20 min.... 4 2 

Family Strike, 20 min 3 3 

First-Class Hotel, 20 min 4 

For Love and Honor, 20 min.. 2 1 

l'"udge and a ISurglar, 15 min.. 5 
Fun in a Photograph Gallery, 

30 min 6 10 

Cireat Doughnut C"i pointion, 

30 min 3 5 

Cireat ? dical Disjiensai y, 30 m. 6 
Cireat Pumpkin Case. 30 min.. 12 

Hans \'hn Smash, 30 min.... 4 3 

Happy Pair, 25 min 1 1 

I'm Not Mesilf at All, 25 min. 3 2 
Initiating a Granger, 25 min.. S 

Irish Linen Peddler, 40 min... 3 3 

Is the Kditor In? 20 min... 4 2 

Kansas Immigrants, 20 min... 5 1 

Men Not Wanted, 30 min 8 

Mike Donovan's Courtsliip. 15 m. 1 3 

Mother Goose's Goslings, 30 m. 7 9 

Mrs. Carver's I'ancy Ball, 40 m. 4 3 
Mrs. t'tubbins' Book Agenf -0 

min .• 3 2 

My Lord in Livery, 1 hr.... 4 3 

My -Neighbor's Wife, 45 min.. 3 3 

.My Turn Next, 45 min 4 3 

My Wife's Relations, 1 hr 4 6 

vNot a .Man in the House, 40 m. 5 

Obstinate Fan\ilv, 40 min 3 3 

Only Cold Tea.' 20 min 3 3 

Outwitting the Colonel, 25 min. 3 2 

Pair of Lunatics, 20 min 1 1 

Patsy O'Wang. 35 min 4 3 

Pat, the .\pothecary, 35 min.. 6 2 

Persecuted Dutchman, 30 min. 6 3 

^.Regular Fix, 35 min 6 4 

Rough Diamond, 40 min 4 3 

Second Childhood, 15 min.... 2 2 

Smith, the Aviator, 40 min... 2 3 

.Taking Father's Place, 30 min. 5 3 

Taming a Tiger, 30 min 3 

That Rascal Pat. 30 min 3 2 

Those Red Fnvelopes. 25 min. 4 4 
Too Much of a C-ood Thing, 45 

min 3 6 

Treasure from Egypt, 45 min. 4 1 

Turn Him Out, 35 min 3 2 

Two .Aunts and a Photo, 20 m. 4 

Two Bonnycastle.s, 45 min.... 3 3 
Two Gentlemen in a Fi.x, IS m. 2 

Two Ghosts in White, 20 min.. S 

Two of a Kinil. 40 min 2 3 

Uncle Dick's Mistake, 20 min.. 3 2 

Wantc<l a Correspondent, 45 m. 4 4 

Wanl?d a Hero, .20 min 1 1 

Which Will He Marrv? 20 min. 2 8 

Who Is Who :^ 40 min . . 3 2 

Wide llnough for Two, 45 min. 5 2 

Wror^g P.aby. 25 min .'^ 

Yankee Perttllcr, I hr 7 3 



VAUDEVILLE SKETCHES, MON- 
OLOGUES, ETHIOPIAN PLAYS. 

M. I. 

Ax'iii' Iler Father, 25 min.... 2 3 
Booster Chd) of Blaekville, 25 m.UI 

Breakfast I'ood for Two, 20 m. 1 1 

Cold I'inish, 15 min... 2 I 

Coon C'reek Courtship. \5 min. I 1 

Coming Cluim])ion,, 20 min.... 2 
Coontown Thirteen Club, 25 in. 14 

Counterfeit Jiills, 20 mifi 1 1 

Doings of a Dude, 20 min.... 2 1 

Dutch Cocktail, 20 min 2 

Five .Minutes from Veil Col- 
lege, 1 5 min 2 

J-'or Reform, 20 min 4 

Flesh Timothy Hay, 20 min.. 2 I 

Glickman, the Glazier, 25 min. 1 1 

Handy Andy (Negro), 12 min. 2 

Her Hero, 20 min 1 1 

Hey. Rube! 15 min 1 

Home Run, 15 min 1 1 

Hot .\ir, 25 min 2 1 

Jumbo Jum, 30 min 4 3 

Little Red School House, 20 m. 4 

Love and Lather, 35 min 3 2 

Marriage and .After, 10 min.. 1 

Mischievous Nigger, 25 min.. 4 2 

iMistaken Miss, 20 min 1 1 

Mr. and Mrs. Fido, 20 min 1 1 

M r. Badger's Uppers, 40 min . 4 2 
One Sweetheart for Two, 20 m. 2 

Oshkosh Next Week, 20 min . . 4 

Oyster Stew, 1 min '2 

Pete Yansen's Gurl's Moder, 10 

niin 1 

Pickles for Two, 15 min 2 

Pooh Bah of Peacetown, 35 min. 2 2. 

Prof. Black's Funnygrapli, 15 m. 6 

Recruiting Office, IS min 2 

Sham Doctor,- 10 min 4 2 

M and I, IS min 1 

Special Sale, 15 min 2 

Stage Struck Darky, 10 min.. 2 I 

Sunny .Son of Italy. 15 min.. 1 

Time Table. 20 min 1 1 

Tramp and the .Actress, 20 min, 1 I 

Troubled by Ghosts, 10 min... 4 

Troubles of Rozinski, 15 min.. 1 

Two Jay Detectives, 15 min.. 3 

l^mlirella Mender. 15 min.... 2 
LTncle Bill at the Vaudeville. 

15 min 1 

ITncle .Jeff. 25 min 5 2 

\\'lio Gits de Reward? 30 min. 5 1 



A ereat number of 

Standard and Amateur Plays 

not found here are listed in 

Denlson's Catalogue 



T.S.DENISON & COMPANY, Publishers.154W.RandotphSt., Chicago 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



POPULAR ENTERTAINM o 015^07633^7 | 

Price* Illustrated Paper Covers. 25 cents each 



, I nKtsocnrrr / » 

LITTLE PEOPLrS 




■.I.DENISQtr 
t COMPANT 

nnusHEKS CHICAOO 



tN this Series 
-^ are found 
books touching 
every feature 
in the enter- 
tainment field. 
Finely m a d e, 
good paper, 
clear print and 
each book has 
an attractive 
individual cov- 
er design. 

DIALOGUES 

All Sorts of Dialogues. 

Selected, fine for older pupils. 
Catchy Comic Dialogues. 

Very clever; for young people. 
Children's Comic Dialogues. 

From six to eleven years of age. 
Dialogues for District Schools. 

For country schools. 
Dialogues from Dicl<ens. 

Thirteen selections. 
The Friday Afternoon Dialogues. 

Over 50,000 copies sold. 
From Tots to Teens. 

Dialogues and recitations. 
Humorous Homespun Dialogues. 

For older ones. 
Little People's Plays. 

From 7 to 13 years of age. 
Lively Dialogues. 

For all ages; mostly humorous. 
Merry Little Dialogues. 

Thirty-eight original selections. 
When the Lessons are Over. 

Dialogues, drills, plays. 
Wide Awake Dialogues. 

Brand new, original, successful. 

SPEAKERS, MONOLOGUES 

Choice Pieces for Little People. 

A child's speaker. 
The Comic Entertainer. 

Recitations, monologues, dialogues. 
Dialect Readings. 

Irish, Dutch, Negro, Scotch, etc. 
The Favorite Speaker. 

Choice prose and poetry. 
The Friday Afternoon Speaker. 

For p .pils of all ages. 
Humorous Monologues. 

Particularly for ladies. 
Monologues for Young Folks. 

Clever, humorous, original. 
Monologues Grave and Gay. 

Dramatic and humorous. 
The Patriotic Speaker. 

Master thoughts of master minds. 



The Poetical Entertainer. 

For reading or speaking. 
Pomes ov the Peepul. 

Wit, humor, satire, funny poems. 
Scrap- Book Recitations. 

Choice collections, pathetic, hu- 
morous, descriptive, prose, 
poetry. 14 Nos., per No. 26c. 

DRILLS 

The Best Drill Book. 

Very popular drills and marches. 
The Favorite Book of Drills. 

Drills that sparkle with originality. 
Little Plays With Drills. 

■ For children from 6 to 11 years. 
The Surprise Drill Book. 

Fresh, novel, drills and marches. 

SPECIALTIES 

The Boys' Entertainer. 

Monologues, dialogues, drills. 
Children's Party Book. 

Invitations, decorations, games. 
The Days We Celebrate. 

Entertainments for all the holidays. 
Good Things for Christmas. 

Recitations, dialogues, drills. 
Good Things for Thanksgiving. 

A gem of a book. 
Good Things for Washington 

and Lincoln Birthdays. 
Little Folks' Budget. 

Easy pieces to speak, songs. 
One Hundred Entertainments. 

New parlor diversions, socials. 
Patriotic Celebrations. 

Great variety of material. 
Pranks and Pastimes. 

Parlor games for children. 
Private Theatricals. 

How to put on plays. 
Shadow Pictures, Pantomimes, 

Charades, and how to prepare. 
Tableaux and Scenic Readings. 

New and novel; for all ages. 
Twinkling Fmgers and Sway- 
ing Figures. For little tots. 
Yuletide Entertainments. 

A choice Christmas collection. 

MINSTRELS, JOKES 

Black American Joker. 

Minstrels' and end men's gags. 
A Bundle of Burnt Cork Comedy. 

Monologues, stump speeches, etc. 
Laughland,vla the Ha-Ha Route. 

A merry trip for fun tourists. 
Negro Minstrels. 

All atout the business. 
The New Jolly Jester. 

Funny stories, jokes, gags, etc. 

Laree Illustrated Catalosue Fre« 



T.S.DENISON & COMPANY, Publishers,154W. Randolph St., Chicagc 



